


Nurture the Child, Redeem the Man

by Meadow_Wanderer



Category: Black Panther (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Angst, Asexual Character, BAMF Maria Stark, BAMF Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canonical Character Death, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Brainwashing, Past Child Abuse, Protective Bucky Barnes, References to Torture, Shuri Is a Good Bro, Team Dynamics, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark deserves a childhood, and he gets one in this story!, canon divergence- Iron Man, caring Tony, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:18:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7447492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow_Wanderer/pseuds/Meadow_Wanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>She proceeds quickly around the room, ripping pages out of scattered journals, tearing down maps and pictures from where they hang, and destroying any goddamn memorabilia she can get her hands on. She might be screaming as she does it, not caring in the slightest who hears her. Let their neighbors know that her husband has left their son in tatters over a simple drawing; let everyone know her husband is just as fake and cracked as these rich snobs she has had to play good little trophy wife for. She wants to smash everything in this goddamn fictitious world she's been existing in until she can see the ugliness peak from beneath the cracks, because only then will she be certain that anything in these past few years was real.</em> </p><p>
  <em>But all to soon, the fight in her gradually wanes as she realizes there's too much stuff; on the walls, lining every bookcase, and wedged in nearly every crevice of the office. There are too many countless reminders that her husband has collected of the long gone war hero, who he cherishes more than their own son.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When Tony is 5 years old, his mother grabs him and two packed duffle bags, before fleeing in the middle of night to seek sanctuary in Wakanda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a mother's will never ceases

**Author's Note:**

> So this story is taking place before Iron Man, Avengers, etc. It's a canon divergence that changes the origin of Tony Stark. Because like hell if this version of Maria Stark is gonna let Tony grow up in an emotionally abusive household. We all know how that ended up.
> 
> Please note this story to begins with a the grim and heartbreaking topic of abuse of a child (emotionally, somewhat physical, and neglect). It's sad and will be brought up in further chapters (whether in depth or touched upon quickly). Just a forewarning!
> 
> However, if you want to argue if Howard Stark shouldn't be considered abusive (movies/comic/etc), honestly fight me.
> 
> Not only does Tony Stark still suffer today from being compared to his father's obsession with Captain America, but they fought constantly (and no it wasn't just teenage rebellion). Also look up the word 'child neglect' and see it's just as damaging to a child as throwing out unnecessary and cruel criticism. Sure, maybe my story is expanding this idea and exaggerating it, but if you're here to argue for Howard's sake, well it's gonna fall on deaf ears. Sorry, but never sorry for this.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this story, because I'm kinda excited about this :)

Maria Carbonell knew that when she said yes to Howard Anthony Walter Stark on their wedding day, she was marrying a somewhat eccentric, work-obsessed man. Even when they had been dating, he'd go radio silent for a few days, later always skimming over her concern with the excuses of being busy with his newest inventions for his flourishing company. This doesn't mean that he'd ignore her during their time together, oh no. In fact, he'd pull out all the stops to take her out to the fanciest places and lavish her with the finest things she'd ever laid eyes on. He was sweet, charming, and they'd sometimes have these intellectual conversations that would bring out such curiosity and enthusiasm from the pair of them, they'd end up smiling at each other over the candlelight from their seats.

And though at times their marriage wasn't perfect, she could deal with his tendencies and pretend at times to be the perfect trophy wife in front of the usual dinner party crowd they would be forced to interact with.

What she didn't know was what kind of father Howard would be, not until she had her little bambino, Tony. Anthony Edward Stark, "it's  _a fitting name for a Stark_ " Howard claimed, but to her, the little bundle of joy would always be just Tony. Howard had never gave her anything more precious than Tony. When she first held him in her arms, little peach fuzz poking up from his tiny head while peering at her with the same warm honey brown eyes, she thought-no, she  _knew_ she'd give her life in an instant if it meant it would keep her little bambino safe. And as she watched Howard carefully maneuver their son until he was cradled gently in the crook of his arm, awe-filled eyes glued down at the small bundle, she thought he felt the same.

All to slowly, however, she learned how wrong she had been.

Things had been good, even great those first few years. It was amazing to see a person that Maria had carried for 9 months in her womb, grow into a beautiful little boy, taking his first tiny steps, starting to talk by the age of 1 and never seem to stop. And oh his laugh was so delightful to hear, she couldn't get enough. Tony had all the staff wrapped around his little finger from day one, and as long as he was happy and laughing, the loyal and trusted employees were happy to work for the Stark family.

She didn't realize how much the beautiful sound of her son's laughter meant until it slowly started ceasing. 

She never could have pictured when she said yes, that as a father Howard could be so cruel, so harsh, and so unforgiving towards their son. Since the day their son turned three and could firmly grasp a tool in his little hand, Maria watched in slowly-growing horror as Howard became more rough with him. Instead of encouraging words and gentle guiding hands, there would be harsh shoves and tight grips. She was never there to witness it, only heard the concerns coming from some of the house staff, including their faithful butler Edwin Jarvis.

At first, she didn't want to believe it. How could Howard, the sweet charmer who doted on her constantly, do such things?

But one night she came across some dark bruises beginning to form on Tony's arms when she helped him dress into his pajamas, freezing when she noticed Tony's face pinch up tightly after she accidentally pressed on them. When she asked Tony what happened, he went real quiet, snuggled under the covers while holding his stuffed wolf, and said ' _I'll be good mama, I pwomise. Stark men not sappose to cwy."_

Horrified and angry, she distractedly kissed Tony's head, turned off the light, and then marched straight to Howard's office. She barged in and demanded to know what he did to his son. For unknown reasons as of late, Howard would be drunk, that night no different as he said that it's nothing and that his father before him taught him the same thing.

"He's has to use his mind Maria. He could be something great and he needs a little....push," he slurred out.

"He's three _,_ Howard," she argued with thinly-veiled disbelief.

"My dad became firm with me when I was _three_ ," like it's supposed to be normal and validate his actions towards their son.

Maria seethed quietly, before stalking over to stand in front of her husband. She placed her hand on his shoulder, leaned forward so he had no choice but focus on her. Her voice was quiet that night, but it held a deadly edge. "Listen here darling, I don't care if you want to be like your father. If you so much as lay a hand on Tony that causes a single bruise, I'll make sure you'll regret it. _I promise you_."

Howard looked sobered up by the end of her speech, so she left him in his study that night.

She wished that the moment had snapped him out of whatever fit he had landed himself in. Sadly, it did not. Yes, Howard stopped being physically rough with Tony, but he also stopped being physically there.

He started taking long trips usually lasting a week or two, some even as long as three months. And when Howard came back, he'd lock himself up in his study, pouring over maps of the Northern Hemisphere with filled notebooks and heavy doses of liquor. He never even stopped to ask about Tony in the off-chances he was home. At nights he actually came to bed, Maria would spend hours awake trying to relay to him everything that he missed involving his son while he was away, but she could tell it fell on deaf ears as he scanned through his journals, occasionally grunting or humming in reply.

The hardest part though was having to watch Tony sit outside his father's office with a new little invention or even some drawings, waiting for his father to come see. He would sometimes sit there for hours on end, refusing to allow the house staff to move him, because " _I half to way for daddy. Its bery impotant."_

The staff frequently wore faces that looked ready to either yell or cry on his behalf, even if Tony couldn't understand why.

Maria would come home from dreaded social meetings, and find her heart slowly breaking at the familiar sight of Tony sitting in front of the closed study door, playing a game of Monopoly against Jarvis. He would be wearing a look of such concentration on little his face, little tongue peaking out of his mouth with his arm hugging his stuffed wolf tightly. Little trays of food would be scattered around them like a picnic, Ana or one of the other maids combing their fingers softly through his hair. 

Maria didn't have the heart to tell him that more than half the time, Howard was not even in the country. 

So instead, she'd drop her bags and lay down on her side right next to Tony, hugging her son close to his chest and kissing his curls as he played his game. Though the games would sometimes be difficult for his age, he could play with the best of them; her little boy was so brilliant and it made her proud to be his mother. She would ask him all about his day and what he made, listening to her little boy tell her with such joy about his inventions or the pictures he worked very hard on.

And every time he asked if his daddy would like them, she would smile and say, "Of course bambino. He's gonna love them."

This same occurrence went on for almost a year and a half, until a 4 1/2 year old Tony slowly started to realize what they all had tried so hard to distract him from. The laughter grew sparse and the atmosphere grew dim with each passing day that Howard was away or "busy". Maria swore she was going to say something the next time Howard came back, that she would put a stop to this neglect and make her little boy happy again. 

Only the next time Howard back, Maria discovered she didn't have to say anything. Howard came home and picked Tony up from where he sat, ignoring the drawings as they were smushed under his shoes, and announced that they were close to making a big discovery. Apparently, this whole time Howard had been trying to find Steve Rogers, the heroic Captain America she had come to hear about from Howard more often than not. Maria felt a pit of anger swell in her gut at this news.

Tony, oblivious to the what the announcement meant and finally getting attention from his father, wrapped his little arms around Howard's neck. "What Captan Amawica, daddy?"

Howard laughed, the kind she was charmed by when they first started going out on dates. "Well, let me tell you about the greatest superhero that ever lived!"

He carried Tony over to one of the living room chairs, sat down with Tony in his lap, arm wrapped securely around his back. And for hours, Howard retold stories of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos, exaggerating the tales to the point they started to sound ridiculous. But to Tony, who watched his father with the whole time with wide adoring eyes, the stories were like gold.

The sight made the anger she had felt slowly ebb away and be replaced by relief. Maria's attention drifted after the first few tales, as she noticed some of the staff were watching the pair as well with clenched jaws and tight mouths. They walked away when they saw her looking at them, too polite to say what's on their mind, but she noticed the muted looks of displeasure thrown her way as well. She was no fool to know what they all were thinking. _'How can she let this go on?' 'Why does she let her child suffer?' 'What kind of mother is she?'_

The relief she had experienced now felt fake, like most things Maria had come to realize where a constant in the lifestyle of the rich and infamous. And as she turned back and watched her husband and son, she couldn't help but feel wary of this sudden good mood, wondering how long it would last. 

Only 6 months later, on a night she will never forget, she would come to wish that her husband had never come back.

 

-/- 

 

It's late as Maria pours herself the second drink of the night, hoping that if she'd make this one good, she wouldn't need another to forget that godawful congressman's wife who just loved talking to _the Mrs. Stark,_ the wife of the famous Howard Stark, as if her husband was all she needed to live a prosperous and happy life. She would love to know who started that absurd lie.

They had just come back from another dinner party and Maria can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. She doesn't want to smooze anymore uptight socialites, she doesn't want to smile until her cheeks hurt at the jaded complements these people give her, and she doesn't want to hear another goddamn word from Howard's mouth that involves Captain America. All she wants to do is change out of this uncomfortable dress and shoes that always seem to pinch her toes, put on her fluffiest robe, and cuddle with her son. 

And with that plan, she decides to pour the drink out, opting to go check on Tony and make sure he's sleeping well. She knows a few days ago Howard had been particularly harsh towards their son, her stern reprimands falling once again on her husband's boxed ears. It's become a daily occurrence to catch snippets of Howard talking down to their son, questioning his intelligence and worth, sometimes even going so far as yelling at him. Maria has started to make Howard sleep in a guest room, preferring to lay next to cool sheets than someone who was becoming a stranger to her. The past months have been just a downward spiral she cannot seem to get out of, watching her son slowly become less lively, all because of her husband's ever flaring temper and cruel words while she stands idly by.

She sighs guiltily, walking away from the minibar to head upstairs when she passes by the office. 

"Godammit Tony!" Howard's raised voice projects through the semi-closed office door, the only sign of his overzealous drinking is caught in the slight slur at the end of his words.

Maria halts and moves to peek through the crack, pushing the door slightly more open. Howard's yelling at Tony who is standing by the wall, dressed in his pajamas, head bowed in shame. On the floor are some scattered war posters that lay haphazardly astray, one held by the corner in her husband's clenched fist, tight enough to cause the picture to crease. This specific poster is a picture of Captain America, posed in a proud stance with his hands on his hips, looking off into the distance; where there is supposed to be empty space next to him, it's now sporting two drawings, one of a tall stick figure and another of a small stick figure, both etched in the same stance. Her heart melts and aches at the writing above each figure, one that says ' _Tony'_ with the n written backwards, and the other that says _'Daddy'_ , with a smiley face beside it.

She walks further through the doorway, tries to intervene calmly. "Howard, he was just trying to-"  

Howard ignores her, hand gripping his drained glass tightly as he casts the now 'ruined' poster aside. "I told you not to never touch these things! Are you fucking stupid?! These are sacred pieces of history of the most important hero who ever lived. Captain America is worth every night pouring over maps and old videos. Captain America is everything the world needs! Captain America is someone you will never measure up to! Not with you're absurd drawings nor your stupid robots. You're so fucking useless Tony!"

The next thing she knows, her husband throws the glass at the wall directly where Tony stands.

As if in slow motion, Maria can only watch in horror as the glass barely misses him by inches, instead smashing into the wall right of his head. Her son crouches down with hands above his head as the shards explode around him onto the floor, his little body starting to shake in fear. She stands frozen to her spot, looking between her petrified bambino and the man who had once held him with such tenderness. This moment, this disgustingly low moment is the straw that broke the camel's back and instantaneously, the patience and forgiveness Maria had for Howard Anthony Walter Stark evaporates into nothing.

She rushes over to Tony and scoops him up, shushing his quiet whines, her heart breaking at the sniffing sound her son tries to control. "Non piangere il mio bambino. La mama sta andando a fare tutto bene." _{Don't cry my baby. Mama is going to make everything alright.}_

"Mrs. Stark, what happened?" Jarvis' voice asks from behind her.

She turns and finds herself trying to hold back tears. The older butler stands partially in the doorway, looking at her with concern. His inquisitive eyes turn a shade darker when he spots Tony in her arms, face hidden in her chest and still trembling like a leaf. She moves towards Jarvis and carefully hands Tony over, the man immediately taking her son without hesitation and cradling his head. 

"Take him upstairs. I'll be right up," she orders.

Jarvis nods silently and goes back out into the semi-darkened hallway, a few other staff members standing in the living room, trying to see what happened. She closes the door and rounds back to look at her husb- _at Howard._

"How dare you," she whispers fiercely, not even trying to keep her voice from rising.

Howard doesn't even seem to react, instead he's bent down, picking up the scattered posters. 

She takes a step forward, chest heaving. "You fucking bastard!"

There's the barest flinch in Howard's shoulders, but even then he still continues picking up the posters, not daring to look at her. 

She marches over and yanks the posters from his hands, fingers ripping them to shreds until there is nothing left but little worthless pieces.

But she's not satisfied yet.

She proceeds quickly around the room, ripping pages out of scattered journals, tearing down maps and pictures from where they hang, and destroying any goddamn memorabilia she can get her hands on. She might be screaming as she does it, not caring in the slightest who hears her. Let their neighbors know that her husband has left their son in tatters over a simple drawing; let everyone know her husband is just as fake and cracked as these rich snobs she has had to play good little trophy wife for. She wants to smash everything in this goddamn fictitious world she's been existing in until she can see the ugliness peak from beneath the cracks, because only then will she be certain that anything in these past few years was real.

But all to soon, the fight in her gradually wanes as she realizes there's too much stuff; on the walls, lining every book case, and wedged in nearly every crevice of the office. There are too many countless reminders that her husband has collected of the long gone war hero, who he cherishes more than their own son.

She turns to stare at him with watery eyes and sees that he finally meets her gaze, demeanor resembling something helpless. She shakes her head, clenching her fists until the nails bite into her palms painfully. "I can't forgive for this. I've tried making excuses over and over again, tried to tell Tony that you love him despite your actions saying otherwise," she swallows down the emotions building in her throat. She see Howard try to open his mouth and talk, but she cuts him off harshly. "But after  _this...._ I refuse to."

 **"Sei diventato un mostro, e ve ne pentirete** ," she spits out. **_{You've become a monster, and you will regret it.}_**

Without saying another word, she walks towards the door and wrenches it open, going out into the hallway and slamming it behind her. The living room is now deserted as is the main hallway, so she hurries up the stairs to Tony's room. There she finds the house staff standing in the hallway, looking back at her solemnly. A young man, the gardener she recalls, places a hand on her shoulder in attempt to help her calm down; she didn't even realize she had been shaking.

She brushes off the concern and moves towards Tony's room, the only light coming from his beside table. She halts when she see Jarvis kneeling in front of her son, carefully wiping something from his face with a white cloth that comes back red. She feels nauseous at the sight of the bandages on Tony's tiny hands and left forearm. Ana sits beside him on the bed, rubbing his back gently, looking numb. Maria finds her feet moving, too slowly for her liking, until she bends down near Jarvis to look at her son. 

There's cut, two inches in length, reaching from Tony's left temple to just above his eyebrow that Jarvis is cleaning as tenderly as possible. Her son's so usually lively eyes, appear dull and red-lined as he looks up at her presence. When he talks, his voice is soft, "Mama, I tried to draw daddy a nice picture, but I made him mad."

Her hand comes up to rub against her mouth to keep in the sobs she wants to release. She breathes in and out, removing her hand to plaster on the best smile she can muster. "Oh no baby. You did nothing wrong."

Tony sniffles, a little bandaged hand comes up to rub at his eye. "Daddy says Stark men not supposed to cry. But I did mama," his little head bends down in shame. "I real sorry."

She hears some of the staff choke on their emotions, and Ana has to turn away to hide her wet eyes.  Maria places a hand under Tony's chin, lifting his head up to look at her. "Il mio piccolo bambino, it is ok to cry. There is nothing wrong with crying. Do you understand?" 

Tony nods.

She grasps one of his hands and bring it up to her mouth, pressing little kisses to the bandages. "I love you so much. And I promise that what happened tonight will never happen again. Ok?"

"Ok", Tony says softly. "Anche io ti amo mama."  _{I love you too mama.}_

She closes her eyes and can't help the tear that escapes. Her little one still loves her after she has let it get this bad; the forgiveness of a child is incomprehensible. She leans forward and kisses Tony's forehead firmly before standing up. She looks at some of the staff who watched the exchange silently with mournful faces. 

"Where's is he?" she asks, the name remaining unmentioned. 

"He left with one of the cars ma'am," a young woman who cleans regularly says. "I think he's heading down to the factory."

She nods. "If one you could please call Jeffery and get a private plane ready. And if someone else could please pack a bag for Tony, only necessary items."

More than two immediately set to the task as she heads out into the hall and down to the master bedroom. She goes into her closet and pulls out a large duffle bag she had from back when she was a single gal studying at the University. She starts stuffing clothing items that she'll need and any few valuables she can't dare to leave behind, like heirlooms that belonged to her mother and old family photo albums. She takes off her jewelry including her wedding ring, all gifts from Howard at one time or another, and leaves them on the dresser along with the dress and shoes. She puts on pants and a sweater, along with an old pair of tennis shoes. She then opens one of Howard's drawers, filled with mostly socks, and searches until she comes upon the one card she knows is always here. Her fingers find it, pulling it out to take with her. It's wrinkly and the edges are frayed, but one can still make out the writing on it.

With a deep breath, she puts the card in her pocket, picks up her full bag, and heads out to Tony's room.

Jarvis has put little tennis shoes on Tony and a warm jacket over his pajamas, holding his tiny hand in his own. One of the workers holds his little bag, looking packed to the brim, while another reaches for her own bag, both disappearing out into the hallway and down the stairs. Tony looks up at her, now sporting a thick bandage on the side of his forehead that peaks out from under a few of his brown curls. 

"Where we going mama?"

She bends down, taking his free hand in her own. "We're going on a trip bambino, just you and I."

"Where?"

"Somewhere far away.

Tony is silent as she picks him up, hugging him close to her as little arms wrap around her neck and a small head rests against her shoulder. She takes one last look around the room, relieved to see Ana already has her baby's stuffed wolf in her hands before turning to head towards the stairs. As she walks through the darkened house, passing distant memories of playing the piano in the living room and laying down near the office door as she watched Tony engage in games with Jarvis, she knows she's leaving much behind, but she hopes they're heading towards someplace that both her and her son will have much to gain from.

Outside in the driveway, she's taken back by all the staff waiting there to say goodbyes. Maybe they too know this is an end of sorts.

Tony lifts his head, frowning at the sight. "Everyone come with, mama?"

She rub his back. "No Tony. They want to say goodbye."

"Bye bye?"

She nods. "Yes. We are going on a long trip and they will miss us, especially you."

"Oh," Tony accepts the explanation easily, wiggling in her arms until she lets him down. He runs over and hugs the first pair of legs he comes across, which happens to be the gardner who quietly laughs. He lifts Tony up and squeezes him tightly, telling Tony "Take care little one. Don't make too much trouble for your mama."

And soon Tony is passed from person to person, hugged and kissed on the head repeatedly. Each person looks to be trying very hard not to cry, until it finally comes down to Ana and Jarvis. 

"We are coming to see you off," Ana says on she smiles at Tony in her arms, handing him his stuffed animal. 

"Really?" he asks with a small smile.

Jarvis nods. "Really, young sir," voice barely holding back emotion.

Maria takes her que and heads towards the car, all falling silent.

She stops for a moment, wanting to express how grateful she has been for their work, and all they've done to make Tony feel so loved when the feeling has been abhorrently absent at times. But all she can manage is, "Thank you so much, for everything." 

They smile at her as one of the men opens the car door. She nods in gratitude and gets in, sliding over as Ana gets in beside her, still holding Tony in her arms; Maria smiles, allowing Tony to remain with her for as long as possible. Jarvis takes the driver seat, starting the engine and slowly backing away from the house and away from a life she never really knew until the cracks in it caused it to shatter.

The drive to the airport is a quiet one, full of things left unsaid and reflections of times when things were good. Tony watches the world passing by, eyes glued to the window as Ana combs through his hair, occasionally kissing his head. Maria watches them fondly, a part of her hating herself that as she lacerates any ties to the old life she also tears things like the two of them away from each other.

It's not long before they arrive at the private airstrip, the small jet waiting for them on the tarmac. Jarvis slowly brings the car to a stop, putting it in park before getting out to help with the bags.

 _Bags._ There's only two of them. Her and her son's whole life is now packed in two duffle bags, and it makes her feel utterly lost.

But then there's Ana still holding Tony carefully in her arms, whispering last goodbyes and placing tearful kisses on his cheeks before handing him over to Jarvis to do the same. Maria doesn't have to say goodbye, she gets to have the whole world along with two packed duffle bags.

She's very, very lucky.

Jarvis walks quietly over to her, Tony's head resting on his chest. Tony is too young to understand the concept of forever, too young to know that this will probably be the last moment he'll see his favorite butler whose been there since his birth. But something in his small face, something akin to sad by understanding comfort makes her think he is so wise beyond his years. When did her little boy suddenly grow up so fast?

Jarvis tilts his head down, eyes somber and tone melancholy. "It's now time that I have to have to say goodbye young sir. I will miss you endlessly."

Tony lifts his head and looks at Jarvis. "I will miss you too J."

Jarvis gives a sorrowful smile. "Take care of yourself and your mother."

Tony nods determined. "I will."

"Good," Jarvis looks at him with pride, as if he knows Tony will do just that.

Finally, after a few seconds, Jarvis hands Maria her son, thin fingers brushing his head in finality. The butler then looks at her imploringly.

"Please be safe ma'am, wherever you go."

She nods, not able to speak past the lump that has lodged itself in her throat. So she takes the small set of stairs up to the jet, turning back to wave one last time to the pair who've been crucial staples in their life.

Tony waves too, small voice saying "Bye bye Ana, bye bye J."

Maria turns away, not bearing to stand and watch the sight of Ana beginning to cry and Jarvis looking less than composed. She heads inside and sits down in the leather seat across from where their two bags rest. Everything seems to be moving slowly, like time is crawling forward.

"Ma'am?" a masculine voice calls.

She looks up out of her daze at the pilot.

"Where would you like to go?"

Where would they like to go? Where can they go? She fishes the card out of her pocket before handing it to him, watching as his eyebrows rise a fraction. "Are you sure? This is pretty far from your home."

Home? They have no home any longer. In fact, it was barely a home to begin with. 

She nods. "Yes, that's the only place we want to go."

The pilot concedes without further argument, pocketing the card. "Ok, strap in. It's gonna be a long ride." He then heads towards the cockpit, disappearing behind the door.

She buckles in, adjusting her grip on Tony until he's resting back against her chest, head tucked under her chin and cradling his fluffy wolf. Her arms circle around him to come to rest on his tummy.

As the engines of the plane roar to life and the jet begins to move she finally cannot suppress the tears that have been building any longer. Her chest starts heaving as she cries, cascades of water falling onto her son's head. She tries not to make noise, because she doesn't want to upset Tony. But then a little bandaged hand pats her arm softly.

"Its ok mama. You can cry, it's ok to cry" he reiterates her words back to her kindly.

She chokes on a sob, the noise echoing in the cabin as she buries her face into her sweet little boy's shoulder, crying harder as he leans silently against her.

She'll take this private plane and fly as far away from the place she once referred to as home. She'll give up what's considered everything, but take _her_ _everything_. She doesn't care if she'll never live in luxury again nor if she'll ever feel whole again. She'll do anything for Tony.

_Anything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non piangere il mio bambino . La mamma sta andando a fare tutto bene. - Don't cry my baby. Mama is going to make everything alright.
> 
> Sei diventato un mostro, e ve ne pentirete.- You've become a monster, and you will regret it.
> 
> Anche io ti amo mama- I love you too mama.


	2. a home away from home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone whose been giving my story a chance. The response after just the first chapter has been tremendous and I'm so excited to see the excitement with this story. :)
> 
> In this chapter we are switching Maria's and Tony's POVs, though the last section has both POVs happening simultaneously. 
> 
> Just wanted to make a note that in this chapter we have someone talking about skin color, that is not in any way meant to be offensive. It's from a child's point of view and explained in that sort of curious childish way. Just wanted to make sure you all are foretold and explained about it, bc if it causes any offense, I am apologize about that. Not my intention at all to hurt my audience.
> 
> But credit for some of the explanation is from the poem that goes like:
> 
> "When she is told  
> Her skin is too dark;  
> I do not hesitate to offer,  
> That the sun loved her so much  
> It kissed her more  
> Than the rest of us."  
> -by emaaanc (sorry if that's wrong, but that's the only person I could find that popped up numerous times)
> 
> Also, I changed Tony's birthdate from May 29 1970 to May 29 1974. It's for specific reasons which I'll be sure to eventually point out. You can probably already guess why but yeah just wanted to let you know before you read some of the dates I put at the end.

Maria caresses her fingers through Tony's hair, resting her head against her arm as she watches her bambino's body rise and fall with each breath. From where she sits on the floor, leaned against the seat he's sprawled on, she can be assured Tony's here and he's safe, and he'll never have to experience one more day of Howard's wrath.

It feels like it's been days, maybe even a whole lifetime since they left the tarmac. After crying for god knows how long, Maria had composed herself enough to just sit and watch out the window alongside her bambino. It wasn't until a while later that Tony's little yawn had caught her attention and she shifted him enough to cradle him in her arms, reminiscent to when he just a babe, and let him fall asleep peacefully in her embrace. Eventually though, when her arms started to go numb, she laid him down into the seat and turned down the cabin lights to a dim glow. Then she started to pace, thoughts of what she had done and what would happen because of it finally catching up with her. 

_What would Howard do when he discovered they were gone? Would he send police after them? The CIA? She can imagine it now, the television sporting two pictures, one of her and one of Tony, headlines reading that a crazy mother has kidnapped her child. What would their social circle think? She'll become the latest gossip over mixed drinks and thousand dollar dinners. 'Did you hear about that Maria Stark? What a wackjob. Always knew she didn't fit in.' They will hunt her down, find her, and drag her back into that world, kicking and screaming; only this time, she'll be the one who's pushed into the cracks, covered over by the gold decadence of fraudulent lives and cheap personalities, unable to help her little bambino crying out for her and-_

No. Maria had shaken her head and refused to think about those things. They were safe in this jet, gone from that world, and none of those self-concerned people with their scrupulously fabricated lies mattered. The only thing that matters is the person who laid in the leather seat, asleep with what she desperately hoped were sweet dreams.

And so, Maria had sunk down in front of the seat where Tony laid, and remained there for hours. She did not even care if she looked foolish on the carpet. There were plenty of available seats, but she just didn't think she could be parted from her bambino.

"Ma'am?"

Maria looks up to see the door to the cockpit ajar, the pilot attempting to get her attention. She stands up on shakily her legs, trying to get back feeling into them after sitting for a lengthy period. Tony stays sound asleep as she nears the front of the plane, getting a glimpse of the darkened sky from out the windows as she passes up the aisle. The pilot has a headset on, listening to whatever is being said in his ear. He then removes it, gaze still focused straight ahead as he relates the message.

"They're hailing us. I've been informed by air traffic control that we are now flying in a restricted zone. They say to turn around and divert our course or we could be facing consequences. What would you-"

"Tell them we have to make an emergency landing," she cuts off his words, laying a hand on his shoulder firmly. "Tell them we have maintenance issues and need to land immediately."

He glances at her quickly, raising an eyebrow before looking forward again. "You want me to lie?" he ask hesitatingly.

But Maria doesn't hesitate. "Yes. I don't care what you have to say, make something up and get us down there. I can take care of the rest."

She turns to walk away, not wanting to have a further argument when the pilot speaks up. "You do know that this country is considered isolated for a reason? If we go in there and create a mess, this could start a huge problem, maybe even a war."

She glances over to where Tony is still sleeping, snuggling his wolf closer with bandaged little hands.

"Some things are worth starting a war over," she says softly, more so to herself, before heading back down the aisle. She gently places the belt over Tony, mindful not to rouse him. Once he's secured, she takes a seat, across the way from him and buckles in.

It's a few minutes of the sound of words being exchanged from the cockpit before she feels the plane start to descend. She grips the arm rests tightly, nails digging in. They have come this far, and by hell is she determined that they will get through the rest. They will not be dragged back.

She's staring ahead unseeingly until she realizes they've landed and the pilot is gently shaking her. "There are armed soldiers outside of our plane. They don't look to be hostile, but..." 

The words _'...they could become so'_ goes unsaid. Maria swallows down her anxiety, before unbuckling herself and standing up, brushing her hands down her pants in effort to smooth her nerves.

She walks towards the door and allows the pilot to open it up, noticing outside that a set of stairs has been rolled conveniently towards the plane for their use. The pilot wasn't lying when he said there were armed soldiers; she can count six on the tarmac, but she does not doubt that there's more nearby. Though they don't look at all threatened by her presence, they do look to be suspicious at their sudden appearance. She steps down the stairs and goes towards the man standing in front of the others, the leader most likely; he is the only one unarmed.

"I need to speak to King T'Chaka," she says in a clear tone.

The man looks merely unimpressed at her request. When he speaks, his accent is thick. "Your pilot said that your engine had problems. It does not look broken to me."

She swallows, but steels herself. "That's because I told him to lie. I need to speak to your King."

He frowns, looking displeased at her remorseless admission. "And why, would a white woman who has ridden in her rich plane need to speak to the King of Wakanda?"

Privilege is not something Maria ever asked for, not when she was born into her family and certainly not when she married Howard. Privilege is nothing but a curse and a tool, one she so ignorantly accepted. She does not want it anymore.  

She steps forward into his space angrily, not even flinching when some of the other soldiers look to be raising their gun a fraction. "Because this white woman in a fancy ass plane is trying to ask for sanctuary," she spits out, immediately feeling part pleased, then part disgusted for sounding as spoiled as she was in the old life. But even now, with everything left behind in the dust, she finds comfort in this sense of selfishness. We are selfish for our children, enough so that we would do anything for them, even undertaking what she is now. 

The man though does not seem to share the sentiment of distaste at her demand. Instead he blinks, taken aback by the fierceness of her request. "And why do you seek sanctuary?"

She feels the lump that disappeared hours ago, suddenly rise and threaten to choke her. The memory of shattering glass and a shaken child will haunt her endlessly. "Because I'm afraid," she admits, voice gone soft.

The man frowns, his thoughtful gaze piercing hers. "What do you fear so much that you have come all the way here?"

She smiles, the sad thing pulling at the corners of her mouth that holds no cheer. "It is not about what I fear, but more about who I fear for."

The man watches her in silence before a small voice calls out to her, drawing the attention of all present.

"Mama?" 

She turns and sees Tony at the top of the stairs, looking sleepily at her, with his hair a bit unruly from the flight. He starts to descend the stairs carefully, sitting down on the top step before wiggling down to the next, repeating the adorable action for subsequent ones. She walks over to him, scooping her bambino into her arms when he finally reaches the last step. Turning around, she finds with enormous relief that the soldiers have lowered the guns, some even placing them behind their backs as to not frighten Tony. He's already been exposed to too much violence in such a short time.

She walks over to the leader again. "This is my son. His name is Tony."

The man's face eases, melting with a touch of a smile. "Hello."

"Hi" Tony says, rubbing the sleep out of his eye before yawning. 

Maria watches acutely as the white bandage on Tony's hand catches the man's eyes, examining the other bandages with an irate grimace he barely manages to suppress. When he looks back at her with the silent query, she nods somberly, hugging Tony closer to her.

The man straightens, turning his head a fraction to call back to his men. "Lugisa iimoto." _{Prepare the cars.}_

A few of the soldiers move at the command, heading towards a building not far off in the distance.

The leader's eyes shift back to her as he clasps his hands behind his back.  "I will take you to King T'Chaka."

She nearly cries at the statement, but instead reins in the emotion. "Thank you," she expresses gratefully.

The man signals towards the plane as two of the soldiers go to collect their bags from inside.

He looks towards the pilot. "I will also ask you to join us, as you are involved in this matter."

The pilot agrees without resistance as the leader directs them towards the building, falling in step beside them as they make their way forwards.

 

-/-

 

Tony watches with fascination as dense trees brush by the window, the jeep's engine rumbling with each twist and turn it as it makes it way through the darkened jungle. There's a thick fog, that floats through the night sky like clouds do through the daytime. From where he sits in his mama's lap in the backseat, he can see the man who flew the plane tapping his fingers nervously against the arm rest, glancing occasionally at the driver seated next to him.

The man who mama was talking to earlier, the one with the earrings, looks over at him and smiles from where he sits beside them in the back. Tony doesn't know who he is but he seemed nice when they first met and mama said thank you to him, so he must be a good man. Maybe he is like daddy's friend Nick Fury, who Tony has meet at a couple of dinners for daddy's business. He is always patient when Tony ask lots questions and he answers all of them as best he can, not once seemingly bothered by Tony's curiosity. He sends a shy smile back to the man; he really hopes he is as nice as Nick.   

The jeep swerves to the right and Tony's mouth drops open as they come upon the sight of a huge palace, made of stone and lit by hundreds torches. Even in the dark, the structure looks like it's made entirely of gold. The driver pulls to a stop in front of a tall staircase, one that seems to stretch on for miles. Everyone gets out of the car, his mama still holding him in her arms securely as they start up the long staircase. He's glad he's being carried right now, because it would take Tony forever to get up these stairs, especially when he has to make sure not to drop Wolfy. It's also nice because he can watch as they slowly rise over the tops of the trees, and notice the outlines of mountains in the shadows. 

Tony is so busy looking over his mama's shoulder, mesmerized by this new place, that it takes her hand gently rubbing his head to catch his attention. "Tony."

He whips his head around and sees that they've reached the top, after what must have been thousands of steps. And there, standing at the entrance of the palace, is a stern looking man. He is surrounded by women covered in pieces of armor and wielding long spears with pointed ends; he thinks they are fearsome to behold. The man from earlier goes over to him and bows slightly, before stepping close and whispering words in his ear. The stern man doesn't smile once and Tony wonders if he ever smiles. Is he a good man like the nice one speaking to him?

The stern man nods at the other before walking towards them, the women slowly following a step behind. He stops part way, dark brown eyes looking at his mama. "Welcome. I am told that you seek an audience with me," his voice is very deep.

He feels his mother's hands tighten around him. "Yes, I do."

"And forgive me, but may I ask who you are?"

"My name is Maria Carbonell and I have come to humbly ask you for sanctuary, for me and my son."

The man's eyes slide over to Tony, lingering for a moment before looking back at his mama.

"I see. I do wonder though what drove you to this place for such solace. Why did you choose Wakanda?"

Mama walks towards the pilot and holds out her hand. He looks confused before realization appears on his face; he digs into his pocket and pulls out a card, giving it to her. She then goes to the stern man, careful not to get to close as she holds it out for him to take. He grasps it from her hand, eyes slightly widening at the object before observing her strangely.

"Because it's the one place he wouldn't be able to look," she admits.

The man's eyes fall down to the card before they again examine Tony. Something about the way he gazes at him makes Tony snuggle into his mama nervously. 

The man dips his head once. "Then I think it is time we talk in private."

-/-

 

She's sitting on a bench, cherry wooden frame that secures a finely woven tapestry draped over the cushioning. Her eyes squint to try to see how tiny the threads are, wondering if she could begin to count them and how long it took to make this.

"Should I call you Mrs. Stark or would you prefer-"

"No," she says, looking up to see the King coming to sit down from across her on an equally intricate bench. "Just call me Maria, please."

His guards, women whose bodies look built to fight, are posed near the open entrances around the regal room. The King studies her, trying to assess her motives. He holds up the aged card, eyeing it as he turns it over in his fingers. "As you imagine, it has been quite some time since this card had last been seen. The last time I gave it out..." his dark eyes drift to her. "Things did not end well."

"Yes, I think I understand why."

He sets the frayed card down on the wood craved table; it is a tattered remnant of the past that Howard kept in his sock drawer she had found one day after helping Ana put away some laundry. On it contains a phone number printed on it, with a note on the back that read  _"Looking forward to doing business with you, Mr. Stark"_ scrawledin black ink that had slowly faded over time _._ Howard refused to look at it anymore, a sign of what bridges and people he burned to get what he wanted.

The King's voice draws her back to the present. "You have traveled a long way Maria. My advisor and brother, S'Yan, says that you have come to ask me for Sanctuary. I wonder why you seem so certain I would grant it to you."

Maria gaze drifts down as she takes a moment to think back to when the man before her was quite young. "I saw you once, on TV. I think it must of been in the late 40s, I was only a little girl at the time. In the broadcast, you were giving a speech about Wakanda's decision to go into isolation; many were opposed to it, in uproar over the idea of you having no involvement in international politics and decisions, which meant you had no responsibility but for your own people. It must have been one of those televised UN summits, my parents were so enthused with those, always wanting to know about bigger things happening in the world than what went on outside of our small, plain one story house. You were younger then, must have been barely 25 and already King to a nation. You listened to every opinion and argument they had for what seemed like hours, and then you calmly told them that your decision was final. However, what struck me and family as amazing, something my dad would bring up in conversation for years to come, were the words that followed."

She glances at the man, finding him in deep remembrance.  "You said that though Wakanda is resorting to isolation, it would not ignore anyone's cries for help. It would not ignore those who are in desperate need for aid  _or_ sanctuary. Should anyone ask for your country's help, you will be there to answer their pleas."

The King remains silent as she reclines back, sighing audibly before continuing. "I only connected the dots a few years ago. Your decision came into play after Captain America was introduced the previous year. Especially when he started using his round shield, the one made of Vibranium that Howard created."

"Your memory is truly remarkable," King T'Chaka comments after a few moments, shifting until he is leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. "Yes. We were once close, your husband and I; two young men who shared a passion for thinking of the future. He was a man who was always trying to push against the constraints of the era, to invent things that many could not even dream of at that time. I'm sure you've heard of the failure of his flying car?"

She smiles. "More than he would've liked me to."

T'Chaka gives a small, but noticeable grin. "Well looking past a few failures, some of the designs he had shown me had intrigued my interest, enough that I believed our rapidly developing country could contribute to his efforts." The grin fades, as the man's voice turns serious, charred from the burn of an old wound. "I had invited him here to see Wakanda's facilities and to offer him help with some of our own rising engineers. At the time he was talking about a important project, very secretive, but he said it would change the world. It was not until the world caught glimpses of those homemade war clips that I realized that a reported shield made of indestructible metal, held by the great Captain America, was not common. He had stolen a large amount of Vibranium right out from under us. It was then I knew, that outsiders could not always be trusted."

The King's brow lowers, as do the corner of his mouth. "I discontinued any contact, stating that his actions were deplorable and the fact that he and his colleagues were trying to play god by creating this... _super soldier_ ,was nothing more than grasping at the chance to build a weapon to further their need for power and war."

"Howard's obsession with Captain America makes him do things that would shame others if they were in his position," Maria says absentmindedly.

"Many would feel ashamed to have such an obsession over a weapon. He has caused much hurt to others over it," he points out.

She nods numbly. "No one more than my son."

The King's eyes turn grave, no doubt reflecting on the sight of those white bandages. She swallows thickly, squeezing her hands together in her lap. "I didn't want believe it when the maid first told me that she had seen Howard push Tony... _hard_. I just said, 'no, no that can't be right. Howard? My Howard? No, no you're mistaken.' They didn't see him hold Tony when he was born, they didn't see the amazement on his face holding his child. And even after more of them kept telling me of their concern, I just brushed it off, hoping to God that they were lying. But then I saw the bruises." She pauses to inhale deeply. "You can bet I tore into him that night, hoping that it would change things for the better. It didn't."

"I was fool," she hears her own voice grow wet, shaking her head as she looks away. "I let my husband ignore our child, go off on his little trips searching for months on end, looking for any sign of Captain America; didn't even remember to be there for Tony's 4th birthday. He was so desperate to find Steve Rogers, he forgot he was a father. And then when he finally came back home, he forgot how to be a father; he forgot that he couldn't just say things or do things to Tony because he felt like it. Last night he was so angry, he spit such cruel horrendous things at our son and then threw glass at him. It smashed into wall and cut my little bambino."

She can't say anymore, can't choke out the words about lasting scars that will remain with them both. She puts a hand to her chest and lets out a shuddering breath as she feels two tears fall down her face. Someone comes to stand near her, holding out a woven cloth to which she takes graciously. She dabs at her eyes, until she is sure she won't break down. She looks up at the compassionate individual, and meets the eyes of a King who is looking much more kindly at her. 

"Forgive me," he says, something that makes the thank you fall silent on her tongue. The King takes a seat besides her on the ornate couch. "We did not provide a warm welcome at your arrival. It has been a long time since we've had foreigners here, and that is by my own fault. I allowed my pain to spur my decision, but also my distrust of human capability to bring into focus the need to protect my people from such harm. It has come to be a wise move, once what the shield was composed of came to be public knowledge; many have tried to invade Wakanda and come to plunder it's wealth of Vibranium, but all have been met with defeat. I've held a steady grudge against your husband, to put my country in such danger for his own goals, and at one time I had believed I would hold the same grudge against his family. I can see now we are all kindred spirits who have witnessed what his mind is capable of. My pain is nothing compared to yours and your son's.

She shakes her head. "My pain stems from my son's. If I had remained there after last night, if I truly been one of those negligent mothers I'm surrounded by day in and day out, I can only image what would happened, that his anger and Tony's pain would have gotten much worse. I couldn't let him suffer anymore."

The man takes her free hand, and holds it firmly. "And he won't, for you and him are welcome to stay here."

She quickly brings the cloth back up to her mouth, shoulders shaking with the effort to not sob aloud. Relief, gratefulness, hope, and much more race through her.

The King gently pats her hand, taking her silent composure as a sign of gratitude. "There is a question that I have. Is there anyone else who knows you are here?"

"No," she shakes her head, once she finds her voice. "Just the pilot."

He hums. "And do you think that this will be a problem?"

"I don't think so. He's not one of Howard's employees."

"Still, maybe it would be in the best interest to see if he would be willing to come work here, to ensure such knowledge would not leave this place."

She laughs, a bit incredulously. "You'd have to ask him, though I'd imagine an offer from the King of Wakanda might be something important to consider."

He smiles, eyes crinkling in delight. "Come, let us go," he stands, helping her to her feet as well. "It is time I meet your son properly."

 

-/-

 

It's hot here. Mama had told him most parts of Africa are hot, and so that means Wa-Waka _-Wakananda_ is no exception. But still, even with his little jacket shucked after the first five minutes, Tony is hot right now. The bandages on his hands and arm are beginning to itch, and he can feel sweat on his brow cause the bandage on his forehead to shift. He really wants to take them off, but he can't yet, because Jarvis said not to touch them. 

He sighs aloud, hugging his stuffed wolf tighter to his chest. He misses Jarvis and Ana and all the other people at the mansion; he wishes they could have come with, but mama said they couldn't. His little sneakered feet kick to and fro from where he sits on the top step of the grand stone staircase, waiting for mama to come back from the meeting with the stern looking man, when a giggle makes Tony's head turn.

His eyes search around the inside of the palace until he spots the source of the giggling hide behind a stone pillar. It's a child, though he's never seen a child who has dark skin. Actually, Tony has never seen another child before, at least not up close. He doesn't go to school yet and his parents' friends never bring any their children over for parties; maybe they hate them as much as daddy hates him.

The child peaks out from behind his hiding place and smiles at him, waving before clapping the hand on his mouth as he giggles again, sneaking right back to hide. 

Tony might not have seen a lot of children, light or dark, but he remembers mama explaining to him about why people have different skin. Mama said it's because they are born that way or sometimes they get too much sun, especially Mrs. Copper who looks almost burnt orange and has lots of wrinkles.

But this child's skin isn't burnt orange, instead it's dark brown, kinda like the melted chocolate on the s'mores Ana would make for him as a treat. If the laughing child's skin is that dark, he must have gotten _lots_ of sun. Like the times when Tony gets to play outside for a long time and start to turn pink, afterwards his mother would sigh fondly, exclaiming ' _oh bambino, the sun must like you too much for it has kissed your face.'_  The sun must have kissed this child a lot because it loved him so much.

Tony smiles; he likes the color of the child's skin.

After a few minutes, the child decides to leave his spot and come over to where Tony is. He notices now it's a little boy, younger than he is, wearing only white pants and he's barefoot. He stops just before the edge of the step before sitting right beside him.

The little boy looks at him with smile, big brown eyes silently watching him. Tony can't seem to help but suddenly feels bashful, hugging his wolf closer. He doesn't know what to say, but he doesn't want to say the wrong thing. He would very much like to make friends, especially with other children because he's only ever had his mama, Jarvis, Anna, and the other people who work in the house. 

"Hi," he says shyly.

The boy responds, "Molo."

Tony is not sure what to respond with, because he's not sure what the word means. The child however doesn't seem to mind and he scoots closer, head leaning forward as as peers at his face. Tony leans a little back as the boy brings up a finger and pokes at the bandage on his forehead. 

"Ouch" he hisses at the pain as he brings a hand up to cover the bandged wound.

The boy leans back and says "Ou-Ouch" mimicking the gesture with his hand. He smiles sheepishly. "Xolo."

Tony doesn't mind, because he probably would have done the same thing a few years ago. But still he rubs the bandage, remembering the harsh words daddy yelled at him. He just wanted to make up for the mistakes he made a few days ago, when he couldn't do the task daddy assigned him to do. He can still feel the overwhelming fear and sadness after the cup had smashed near him. Daddy really did hate him; it's a truth he's gotten used to, but that doesn't make the experience any less painful.

Suddenly he's lifted from the ground, accidentally dropping Wolfy. The child laughs, clapping his hands together. "Ingwe! Ingwe!"

Tony's scared when he's hauled away into the palace, not knowing who is hauling him by the collar of shirt. He kicks his little legs, thinking about yelling for help when he's dropped on the floor in the middle of the spacious room as something wet swipes at his cheek. He blinks and turns to see that it's not a person that has taken him but a huge cat, fur black as night and continuing to lick his face. 

He can't help the giggle that escapes his mouth as his little hands come to pet soft coat. The big cat curls around him where he sits, continuing to lick at Tony's cheek, each swipe punctuated by laugh.

"Buhle" a familiar deep voice calls, causing the cat to stop licking and eventually get up, sauntering over to the stern man from earlier. His mother, the nice man, and the warrior women come into the room as well.

"She likes you mntwana," the man looks at him kindly, petting the cat behind the ears as it purrs in delight.

"The boy called her Ingwe," he sounds out the last word, while standing up from the ground. "What does it mean?"

The man grins. "It means panther, a fierce feline of Wakanda. It is why she is named Buhle, which means beauty."

Maria feels frightened at the size of Buhle, but the panther does not seem to care as Buhle moves to rub her head against her leg, until finally Maria cautiously pets her; Buhle purrs loudly. The sound of racing footsteps makes Tony turn to see the boy from earlier coming towards him, carrying his Wolfy as he stops and hands it to him. Tony takes it gratefully, before the little boy races off to the stern man, jumping into his waiting arms.

 **"** And, I see you have met my son. His name is T'Challa," the little boy smiles from where he rests in his father's arms. The same smile graces the man's face as he gazes down at him, "And my name is T'Chaka."

At parties his mama and daddy threw, old people tended to introduce themselves to him with Mrs. or Mr, or sometimes even Dr. like Dr. Charlie who gives him a lollipop every time he has to go get a shot. Jarvis had told him once that it's a title for people and it's polite to call them by that; he also said that one day when he was a grown up, he would be called Mr. Stark or even Dr. Stark, if he wanted to become a doctor. Jarvis mentioned that sometimes people from different places go by different titles, because of their culture. Well, he promised J he would take care of his mama, and he has to be grown up to do it, so he should introduce himself to this man and be respectful of how they do it differently.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Ta'Tony," he tries to copy the man's title, while holding out his hand as most adults he's seen do.

Maria's eyes widen, waving her hands. "Oh no no no bambino. You say your name is just Tony _,_ " she corrects him gently albeit flustered. She then turns nervously towards the King and tries to apologize. "I'm so sorry, he doesn't understand-"

But the loud unexpected laugh from T'Chaka cuts off her words, taking her back as his eyes crinkle warmly. The man bends down onto one knee and shakes the tiny hand, Maria's eyes are practically the size of dinner plates to bear witness to the King kneeling for her son.

"It is alright, more than alright. It is nice to meet you too,  _Tony_ ," T'Chaka emphasizes the name without reprimand."You will learn many things about our culture and the first being that the people of Wakanda have unique names, much different than your own or your mother's. It will be my pleasure to help teach you about your new home."

Tony frowns, perplexed. "Home?"

"Yes, you and your mother will live here from now on."

Tony thinks for a moment, the deep look of concentration drawing a smile from even the harshest of warriors in the room. "Will I get to look like you all?"

The King appears confused. "And what do you mean by that, mntwana?"

"Will I get pretty skin like _T'Ch-T'Ch-T'Challa_?" he asks, stumbling over the name until he can pronounce it right.

"Pretty skin?" he asks amused.

"Yeah, he has pretty skin like you and the other people. It's like chocolate on Ana's smores!" he says happily.

Maria feels like she's about to faint.

But this time, T'Chaka and everyone else laugh at the loving innocence of the child. It's a beautiful thing to see that such hateful prejudice rampant in this world has not taken hold of one so young and intelligent. 

Tony sees everyone laughing and wonders if he said the wrong thing, but T'Challa is still smiling at him so it must be ok. Even his mama looks to be slowly smiling at his words, though uneasily. 

The King places a hand on Tony's shoulder, grinning much wider than he ever imagined the man could do when he first saw him. "Oh young one, your mind is truly a wonder. Sadly, you will not look like us on the outside, but in time, I'm sure your heart will beat the same as the hearts of the people of Wakanda."

Tony likes how T'Chaka phrases his words, especially making him feel like Tony can have a place here. But there is one thing that he has to make sure of.

"Will you promise to protect my mama?"

Maria makes a small sound, covering her mouth with her hand as S'Yan places a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

T'Chaka face goes soft, smile still present. "Yes, I will. But I will also promise to protect you too, Tony."

"Me?" he asks surprised.

The King carefully looks at him, taking in the bandages that lie on his forehead, hands, and arm. The boy holds his stuffed wolf to his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes; this boy deserves to know more than the abuse he's been subjected to.

"Yes Tony," he nods, answering truthfully. "You are worth such a promise."

Tony considers T'Chaka's words, looking over at his mama, who removes her hand to smile and nod encouragingly. If mama is ok with it, then Tony is ok with it.

He looks back up at the man. "Okay, we can stay here."

Instead of causing offense, the child's statement makes the King and surrounding parties smile. "Then welcome to your new home, mntwana _._ "

 

-/-

 

On July 27th 1979, two weeks after their arrival, and whilst living in secrecy under pseudo names, Tony and Maria obtain full Wakandan citizenship. 

On August 3rd 1979, King T'Chaka declares to the international community of his decision to further increase security measures to ensure Wakanda's safety and isolation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {The part written about selfishness that Maria feels bc of her child comes from Paula Hawkins' book called The Girl on the Train that I'm currently reading through in my spare time. The quote goes "Parent's don't care about anything but their children. They are the centre of the universe; they are all that really counts. Nobody else is important, no one else's suffering or joy matter, none of it is real."
> 
> It of course doesn't mean Maria's actions or thoughts are terrible or bad, but more that this singularity determination to make sure Tony is safe makes her selfish in a way that even she understands that she can be. Idk just me thinking deep and trying to write as such.}
> 
>    
> hehe Tony might have misheard The country's name, thus he thinks Wakananda is super hot. Luckily T'Chaka repeating Wakanda over and over during their conversation probably helped :)
> 
>  
> 
> In the comics, it wasn't Howard Stark that created the shield. But I'm going with the movie route's choice to make Howard Stark the creator of the round shield. This also aids my story's direction of making it a point of dissonance to cause Wakanda to go into isolation. And this also helps explain why in the comics Wakanda increases security measures, cause in this au, you gotta protect BAMF maria and baby tony.  
>    
> Also this story is part MCU and part Black Panther comics (though of course events in the comics are changed or characters are added/removed.) This chapter we are introduced to a character that was in the comics and is keeping said role. I added him to the character tag as well, since he will be an important person through out.
> 
> Apparently Wakanda language is based off a real language called Xhosa. So that is also the path I'm taking with this story. I'll post translations at the end of each chapter that contains language. 
> 
> Lugisa iimoto- Prepare (the) cars
> 
> ingwe-panther*
> 
> [Note: *there is no straight translation in Xhosa for panther, so instead I'm using the word for tiger or leopard which is ingwe.*]
> 
> Xolo- sorry
> 
> mntwana- child


	3. let our feet find steady purchase on this ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay on this chapter, it was a bit tough to get out and have it up to par. Also my internet was acting a bit janky last night. Anyways, here it is and I hope you all like it! :) And thank you again for giving my story a try and/or sticking with it! :)
> 
> So when I'm reading or writing, I like to have character references to show the audience what I'm imagining the person looks like, so here's some cute images below (or as writers call it character reference cause I got to be professional haha):
> 
> Oh my goodness look! It's baby Tony! (But literally cause RDJ was 5 years old in this film) (✿◠‿◠) so cute!  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/47/3f/15/473f15a7509840665440fc35187fc52d.jpg
> 
> I am imagining the Teacher Nceba looks like this in my head. http://www.wingclips.com/system/movie-clips/tears-of-the-sun/never-forget/images/tears-of-the-sun-movie-clip-screenshot-never-forget_large.jpg  
> The actress' name is Akosua Busia (gorgeous lady), who played Patience in the movie Tears of the sun, which is a movie I love! I recommend watching it cause the plot is awesome and the soundtrack is bangin'. I chose the name Nceba because it means mercy.
> 
> S'Yan looks like the actor Djimon Hounsou (but also slap some small gold hoop earring on dis) https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/63/Djimon_Hounsou_(cropped).jpg
> 
> The panther cubs are named Mpilo and Jama, which mean health and stare; I chose these names not for their meanings (cause that would be random haha) but more because I liked how they sounded (which is still random lol).
> 
> There's a bit of a time jump in this chapter as there will be in subsequent chapters.

 

 

"Ndifumanele...Ibhola,” calls a deep voice.

“Ibhola!” a much younger voice yells.

"Ibhola!” another small voice mimics the word.

The shouting voices run by the open doorway as Maria smiles, continuing to read through her book leisurely while reclining on the ornate couch. Her hair is pulled up and her muscles are good and sore from working in the field today; it's a new hobby she's taken up in the past months, something to get her hands dirty and bond with some of the wonderful community she's surrounded by. Using her free hand, she rubs her fingers into the nape of the grown panther’s neck, Buhle purring and flicking her tail lazily from where she lays nearby. Maria looks up from the page just in time to see Tony and T'Challa pass by, each holding a ball in their hand.

The children are playing a game called 'Ndifumanele ibhaso', _Find me the prize_ , one that has become her son's favorite ever since he started taking lessons to learn the language of Wakanda. S'Yan would say "Ndifumanele..." and name a random object, where the boys would then have to repeat said word and locate the correct object to bring to him.

Once the first word has been guessed correctly, the advisor calls another. "Ndifumanele...Ibhanana!"

"Ibhanana!" Tony bellows, racing by the doorway again.

T'Challa is a mere step behind him, yelling out the same word. “Ibhanana!”

The two boys soon return, each having retrieved a banana from one of the fruit bowls laying nearby, running to give their finds to S'Yan.

“Enkosi” He says, the sound of the stem being broken as he probably peeled one open to take a bite. It’s a moment before he commands for the next one. "Ndifumanele...Ingwe!"

"Ingwe! Ingwe!"

Tony and T'Challa take off excitedly, giggling like little thieves that leaves no doubt in her mind what they are aiming for this round. Buhle had given birth to cubs not more than two months ago, two boys they named Mpilo and Jama. Not a single day has passed where Tony and T’Challa have been able to resist playing with the cubs.

A few moments go by before Tony heads back to S'Yan, this time carefully cradling a panther cub his arms, Jama if going by the patch of white on it's small forehead is correct. T'Challa follows a bit slower, the three year old struggling to haul the other cub across the floor, small hands hoisting the animal up from under it's furry arms; Mpilo's face looks very disgruntled at being woken up from his nap as he makes a sound similar to a whine.

Buhle yawns widely, before settling back into her commandeered place, content to observe the humorous view.

While Maria finds herself still struggling a bit with the language, Tony had taken to it like a fish to water. There hasn't been a day where Tony didn't strive to learn a few new words, constantly soaking up all he could during the private lessons. She remembers fondly of an experience after their first few weeks in Wakanda, where they finally made a trip with S'Yan and T'Chaka to visit the city of Birnin Zana; it was a way to begin to introduce them to the people of Wakanda. Tony had been so excited to practice his new vocabulary word as he kept shouting "Molo! Molo! Molo!" to every stall they passed in the market, waving to all the venders and bringing out more than a few smiles. It made her pleased to witness her son adapting so well to his new home.

“Ma’am?” a male voice draws her attention away from the game.

She turns and is delighted to see a familiar presence waiting at the entrance. She abandons her book and stands to cross the room, hugging the man she now considers a dear friend.

“Jim,” she says warmly, stepping back to get a good look at the pilot who helped her and her son get to this safe haven. “I see the past few months have treated you well. You look good.”

The burly but gentle giant brushes off the complement with a modest grin, hefting his bag a bit higher on his shoulder. He blots a cloth on the back of his neck in an effort to get rid of the sweat that frequently accompanies travelers in such a humid environment. “Got to go on vacation with the wife and see my eldest two kids. My youngest just started college, so we have the house all to ourselves...for now.”

Jim Starger was in his mid 50s, but looked no older than 35. When offered a job by T’Chaka, the man was absolutely baffled and flattered, citing that he would love such an opportunity but could not stay here permanently as his family was back in America. T’Chaka had conceded to the stipulation and made an alternative arrangement with him. And even when the deal was being hashed out, Jim refused to take the extra offered compensation to remain silent about their whereabouts.

“You don’t need to pay me to do that, Your Majesty. I won't tell a soul. It’s the right thing to do, to ensure these two are safe, ” he had said that day, motioning his head towards Tony and her.

He however did accept the task of being a private mail carrier every three to four months, something Maria has come to appreciate tremendously when receiving written letters and scraps of news from back home; it also brings her happiness to witness the smile that lights up Tony’s face each time. This will be the pilot’s third visit in the past year, bar the first time he flew them to Wakanda.

“Here,” he says, handing here two envelopes, one with Tony’s name written neatly across in black ink, the other with her name.

She pockets hers for later, and takes Tony’s in hand. “Thank you so much Jim. This truly means a great deal to us.”

“It’s no trouble at all ma'am. However, the plane ride was lengthly, so I’m gonna go turn in for the night,” he thumbs over towards the opposite hallway that leads to the guest rooms. “You have a week to write your response before I leave,” he informs her before backing out of the room.

She smiles and bids him goodnight, going back to the couch. By this time, the language session has come to an end as she spots Tony and T’Challa sitting on the floor in front of where Buhle rests, playing with Mpilo and Jama.

“Guess what came today,” she holds up the letter.

Tony gasps in excitement, standing up to try and reach the letter on his tip toes. She laughs as she lifts him up and sits on the couch, adjusting Tony until he is leaned back against her and comfortable in her lap. She lends a hand to T’Challa to help him get onto the couch, the little boy sitting as close as he possibly can to her. S’Yan comes into the room to join them, sitting on the T'Challa’s other side, ready to translate anything that the little prince might not understand yet.

Tony taps her arm lightly. “C’mon mama.”

Laughing at her bambino’s impatience, she decides not to stall any longer. She clears her throat to begin reading.

 

_Dear young sir,_

_If going by your mother’s last letter, I’m assuming you should be starting school very soon. What an exciting time it must be for you. First grade is a big step in one’s life, and you must be so enthused to begin your studies. I have no doubt that you will thrive and exceed in all your work and make many new friends. Ana misses you terribly and she hopes you and your mother are having a wonderful time. She expressly told me to write that she hopes you are staying out of trouble. Next time, she promises to send you a package of those homemade chocolate cookies you love so dearly._

_Thank you for the lovely picture you drew of your new home. I can only imagine how beautiful it must be to have captured your imagination. I keep it in a safe under lock key, just as I do with all your drawings and letters we receive; anything that precious deserves to be preserved. Your new friends also sound quite wonderful and I do hope you are happy and safe wherever you are._

_I wish wholeheartedly that I could see you off for your first day of school, but it is of no consequence, for I’m sure you’ll have a merry send off no matter what. Nonetheless, Ana, myself, and all the house staff pray you have a wonderful day and please know we are all thinking of you._

_Love and many well wishes,_

_J._

 

Maria finishes and lets S’Yan continue to whisper the translation to T’Challa, who sits entranced as he listens intently to what was in the letter.

“I miss them lots, mama,” Tony discloses softly.

She leans her cheek against his small head, hugging her son closer. “I know bambino. Me too. But don’t be sad. You can write them another long letter and draw a nice picture, this time with Mpilo and Jama in it. I’m sure both him and Ana would love that." She then carefully reminds him, "Just remember not to put anyone's name on it.”

Tony nods. “Okay.”

She looks outside and sees the sun has fallen and night has crept upon them. She pats her son's tummy lightly. "C'mon, time for bed bambino. Don't want to be sleepy on your first day of school."

She stands up with Tony in her arms, allowing him to bid goodnight to the others. "Gudnayithi."

T'Challa springs up on the couch and waves, a bit sadly, while S'Yan keeps a steady hand on the toddler to keep him from falling. "Gudnayithi Tony." 

"Lala kamnandi" the older man also says, gathering up the young prince to retire as well. 

Maria strolls down the hallway, retreating into their private quarters where they have a breathtaking view of the jungle and can even catch a glimpse of the city skyline in the distance. She helps Tony change into his pajamas and then lays him gently down into their shared bed, covering him up with the handwoven duvet. She also makes sure to hand him his wolf, which has seen better days. A little paw scratches at the hem of her pants, discovering that Jama had followed them and is now quite demanding to sleep in his favorite spot. She smiles, gingerly lifting up the panther cub before placing him on the bed. Jama clambers across the covers until he can curl up right next to Tony, both falling asleep within minutes. She rolls down the netting over the bed, to help keep out bugs.

To imagine they only came here with the clothes on their backs and two duffle bags. She hadn't at the time known what she would do if King T'Chaka had not allowed them to stay in Wakanda. But her doubts were put to rest as he graciously offered them a place to live, a gesture so overwhelming, she at first tried to decline. But he would hear none of it. And so they were welcomed wholeheartedly to build their nests, join in lively conversation over family dinners, and establish deep roots in this new place. She feels thoroughly indebted to the King ten times over.

She wipes a hand across her slightly damp forehead, taking a seat in the chair by the open window. Pulling out the letter addressed to her from her pocket, she leans back into the chair and breaks the seal to begin reading by lone candlelight. 

 

_Dear Madam,_

_Forgive me, but I am afraid that this letter does not bear the same lively tone as did Tony’s. The truth is, things here are not going so well._

_I know my past letters have been short and vague, due to precaution, but it was not until most recently that the situation has taken a turn for the worse. I did mention previously that three of the staff quit immediately after you and young sir left, however just a few weeks ago, nearly most of the staff turned in their formal resignation; in fact, all that remains is Ana, myself, the gardener, and two maids. Of course we can afford to hire out more help, but it does cause me grave concern to have lost so many loyal people so swiftly. I acknowledge this could be because of a somewhat recent incident where Mr. Stark lost his temper and went on a bit of rampage, leaving behind more than a few hurt feelings._

_His drinking has become worse when he retires at home, and I rarely see him leave his office. I do believe his company is adding stress with the new weapons expose coming up, but there is also some secretive business he attends to quite frequently. He doesn’t ask anymore where we speculate you might’ve gone, but I have no doubts we are still being closely monitored._

_Ms. Carter and Mr. Fury visit quite regularly, though more often than not they are all locked away inside that office, engaging in discreet discussion; I can recall a few times hearing harsh murmurs pass through the closed doors. Ms. Carter is a formidable woman, as she had to have been to have worked alongside Mr. Stark during WWII, but she is someone that makes me cautious. I can sometimes feel her eyes assessing me when I deliver an afternoon snack, as if she can tell I know more than I do._

_We’ve been lucky so far that no one has detected our correspondence, and Mr. Starger is an absolute godsend for undertaking such a task. If there is ever any trouble with this arrangement, please do not hesitate to contact us through Mr. Starger. You and Tony's safety is of utmost importance._

_I am wishing you an uninhibited amount happiness and joy wherever you are staying. Please be safe._

_Sincerely,_

_Edwin Jarvis_

 

She folds the note and stares out the window, listening to the sounds of nature coming to life. Maria had taken the loose thread and unraveled the old life, so that she could begin to build this new one. And though she can see the pattern being sewn together, stronger and more durable than before, she does not easily forget that it was at the cost of something else.

  

-/-

 

She carefully combs through her bambino's hair, not able to keep from grinning at the spectacle of Tony vibrating energy, appearing ready to take off running. "Pazienza bambino."

"But mama, I don't wanna be late."

She huffs out a laugh, setting the comb down on the dark wooden dresser. "We won't, sweetheart. The sun is only now just starting to rise."

Tony sighs, sounding adorably put out for a six year old. She bends down to make sure his white short-sleeve uniform shirt is buttoned up properly and his navy blue shorts zipped and fastened. She also checks his shoes, tying them with bunny ears and double-knotted, just to be sure. Standing up to grab his new backpack from the wicker chair near the window, she helps Tony loop his arms through the straps and then holds out her hand to him. He grasps it and beams up at her, eager to take this new step in their lives.

God her little boy is finally starting school. Where has the time gone?

She swallows down the abrupt swell of emotion and guides him out of the room, nodding in passing to some of the staff and guards roaming throughout the palace; many give well wishes to Tony on his first day before they head outside to begin their journey to school. She carries Tony as they descend the lengthy staircase until they finally reach the dirt ground, allowing Tony down to hike beside her.

It takes about 20 minutes to reach the village school on foot, while the sun slowly rises to greet the sky. In the time spent traveling, they come across a few houses built on the outskirts, close neighbors waving hello as they each begin their day. Maria occasionally squeezes Tony's hand, more for her own comfort than Tony's, but her bambino squeezes back assuringly each time. 

All too soon, they reach the school and come upon the sight of other children already playing in the courtyard. Tony drags her froward, trying to get to the excitement as fast as he can. Maria is bemused, but allows herself to walk faster to accommodate the pace of her exuberant bambino. They reach the front gate where parent and students are welcomed by teachers, one in particular that they know personally.

"Molo Umhlohli Nceba" Tony greets his first grade teacher with a big smile. 

Teacher Nceba, who they had the pleasure to meet and grow acquainted with during their first few weeks in Wakanda, beams at her son. She's a beautiful woman with rich dark skin and a blinding white smile. "Molo Tony. Ingaba nikulungele ukuqala isikolo?" she asks kindly. _{Are you ready to start school?}_

Tony practically bounces in his shoes. "Ewe!"

Nceba chuckles at his enthusiasm, patting his head gently. "Ndiyavuya ukuva oko." _{I am glad to hear that.}_

Maria takes her que, bending down to kiss Tony's cheek repeatedly until he's giggling and pushing her away. "Bye bambino. Have a good day and be good for Teacher Nceba."

He nods. "I will mama."

She swallows down the sensation of wanting to cry. "I'll be here to pick up at the end of the day," she says, barely able to sound unaffected.

"Ok mama," he leans forward and pecks her cheek sweetly. "Bye," he waves before running towards the building with all the other children.

She watches him disappear inside, letting out a big breath before standing up. Nceba places a hand on her shoulder gently, smiling compassionately at her. "It is ok. All mothers and fathers feel this way when they see their children grow up."

Maria laughs wetly, wiping at her eyes. "I know, it's just so hard to believe he's grown up so fast. Next thing you know, he won't need me anymore."

Nceba shakes her head, looking all the more patient at her for being an emotional parent. "I do not think that is true. He will always need you, especially after all you have done for him. As we say, _'Umama nguThixo emehlweni omntwana.'"_

Maria caught a few of the terms "A mother is...something seen by a child?"

"A mother is God in the eyes of a child."

Maria falls silent, the proverb echoing in her mind as Nceba turns to wave in other students. She takes time to view the other parents dropping off their children, some appearing to be in the same state she is. She wonders if they too worry and hope their children will thrive, all while still wanting to be desperately needed by them.

 

-/-

 

The day elapses quietly, Maria spending it in a lounge chair while she finishes up lesson plans for her classes. 

She was lucky to have come from a family where getting an education took precedent over pampering your appearance or social life. She graduated with a degree in liberal studies before she met Howard, and though these past years she didn't work because her husband had pressed it upon her that with their wealth she didn't need to work a day, she at least had the knowledge that she could do something if she so desired. Only when she came here, realizing that she didn't want to live off the wealth of others, did she speak to T'Chaka about applying for a job, specifically one where she could teach English or perhaps even Italian. He had tried to dissuade her from viewing herself as a burden, but she was having none of it; she wanted to work and she'd apply as many times as it took. Luckily, the University of Wakanda accepted her into their faculty; the administration said that her language skills were most impressive and would further add to the curriculum, though she suspects a discrete recommendation from the King helped along the hiring process, that sly devil.

She works three days a week, teaching four classes a day at the most. It took time for the students to become adjusted to a woman who spoke the native language somewhat decently, but also had a diverse appearance compared to the rest of the staff. Fortunately, after a few months, the students had warmed up to her, and she became just as attached to them; she was absolutely delighted when their conversational skills improved. The work of course was tiring at times, but it made her feel accomplished, earning her own salary to support herself and her son. 

Thinking of her son brings her back to the present, each passing second makes her worry how her bambino is doing. It's normal, of course; every parent worries how their child will handle school and all the challenges that come along with it. Howard had expressed his desire many times for Tony to be tutored privately before being shipped off to boarding school. It's what most of the other wealthy families resorted to, sending their children off to learn discipline and the competitiveness of academics while the adults got time away from their kids, as if they didn't often do that already. But Maria knew she wanted Tony to experience the aspects of public education, where he'd be allowed to think freely and grow alongside his classmates. She wanted him to have a chance at happiness, away from the rigid pressure of expectations.

When the time arrives for Maria to head back to the school to pick up Tony, she runs into T'Challa who waits eagerly by the front entrance.

"I come with," he declares, grabbing her hand with his own smaller one.

The little boy's English has been steadily improving over the past year and she can envision that he will eventually become fluent. She smiles at him, allowing the company as two Dora Miljae join them for extra protection. The whole trip consists of T'Challa revealing to her about what he did today, switching between English and his native tongue, while the two warriors following in their wake remain silent. She luckily can keep up with the young prince's words, which allows her to be distracted long enough from her nagging fears. But when the school comes into view, the anxiety slams back into her.

_Is her bambino ok? Is he making any friends? Is he being ostracized, because of the color of his skin or how his unique mind works? Is he having trouble with his studies? Does he understand everything the teacher is saying? Is he happy? Will she find him crying by himself, looking at the other children with longing or fear? What will she do if he's not happy? What will she-_

But the fears prove to be unfounded the moment they near the gates, when she spots Tony laughing openly during a game of tag outside amongst his classmates; she recognizes a few of them as ones Tony befriended earlier in the year. She breathes a sigh of relief as T'Challa lets go of her hand, racing to the gate.

"Tony! Tony!" he shouts, jumping up and down.

Tony turns at his name and immediately brightens at the sight of them. He rapidly approaches gate with a few of his friends, all the children conversing with one another gleefully. Soon though, Teacher N'ceba calls for them to come get their bags, waving goodbye to each student as they leave through the gate.

Maria smiles when Tony immediately runs to T'Challa, hugging him close before coming to hug her as well. 

She leans over, rubbing his back as he embraces her legs. "How was your day bambino?"

"Good!" He gazes up at her. "I really like Teacher Nceba, she writes really nicely on the board. And I found out Phumelele and Sabelo are in my class."

"That's wonderful," she exclaims, grabbing Tony's hand as he grabs a hold of T'Challa's.

All together they head home as the two bodyguards join near them. During their leisure stroll, Maria lets her mind wander as Tony describes to T'Challa all about his school and the activities he participated in today. Maria's eyes stray to the two women, who rotate their positions every so often, one usually behind and the other in front. She can see the definition in their muscles and intensity in their posture, commanding a combination of both fear and respect. Their eyes are alert and their weapons at the ready. Maria suddenly longs to have such a fierceness to her, to possess such strength where no one would dare try to hurt Tony. She yearns to know how to protect herself and her son.

She's broken from her thoughts by laughter as they come upon the palace staircase, the two boys racing ahead to run up the stairs, though they seem to be actually  _crawling_ up the stairs on their hands and feet like little cubs. She takes the stairs calmly, deliberately going slow as to enjoy the way her legs start to burn after the 50th step, while of course giving the boys a head start.

Tony and T'Challa manage to reach the top a few seconds ahead of her, panting like they just finished a marathon. They stumble together inside, looking for the dear King.

They encounter him and S'Yan conversing near the throne room, T'Chaka smiling when he spots them. "Ah, look who has come back from his first day of school!" he announces, standing up from his desk to greet them as Tony and T'Challa halt just in front of the King. "And what did you do today, mntwana?"

Tony waves his drawing proudly. "I made this. Umhlohli Nceba told us to draw our families."

"She did?" The King asks with well-played surprise, bending down to take the picture held out to him. The wise eyes look at it with such meticulous inspection. "And who are these people that you drew?"

Tony points to the various figures and colorful blobs on the page as T'Challa stands on his tip toes, leaning in close to try to see. "I drew mama, me, you, T'Challa, S'Yan, Buhle with Jama and Mpilo, and the Dora Miljae protecting us. I also drew Ana and Jarvis as clouds, cause they aren't here but they think about us a lot."

T'Chaka smiles. "Why this one of the most wonderful pictures I've ever seen, Tony. It is truly an exceptional work of art. We shall put it where all can see it!"

Maria's throat goes tight at the sight of Tony looking too stunned for words; his little mouth opens and closes.

"Really?" he asks with disbelief after a moment of hesitation.

"Yes Tony," T'Chaka answers earnestly. "I can see you have worked very hard on this, and such effort deserves to be shown off. Additionally, it makes me extremely overjoyed to see that you consider us to be part of your family."

"But you are my family," her bambino says simply. "I know, because you all love me just like I love you all."

The statement is said so easily, in a way that Maria would have never imagined Tony would have been able to say, let alone believe after the incident last year. Her heart melts at the sight of the King growing misty-eyed, who seems to be just as affected by her son's words.

T'Chaka blinks back tears, nodding his head sincerely. "Yes mntwana. We most certainly do."

S'Yan smiles, taking the precious picture from his brother's hands. "I shall go find a frame for it," stepping away to do just that.

Tony rounds on her, tugging on her pants. "Mama, can me and T'Challa go play?"

She pretend to think about it for a moment, like she can resist those puppy-eyed looks, before conceding. "Yes, but first go change out of your uniform."

The two troublemakers sprint off, voices fading as they disappear down the hallway. Maria turns her attention towards T'Chaka again. "Thank you. I can't tell you what that meant to Tony."

The King waves off her gratitude easily. "It was nothing, Maria. Nothing but the truth. His drawing was indeed a brilliant piece of art depicting his family."

"Yes, but..." she falters, trying to explain why the act of kindness meant so much. She has seen how the relationship between Tony and T'Chaka has grown since their first day here, and Maria is glad her son has a male figure to look up to, especially to bear witness to the example of how a father should treat his son.

"Howard never cared," she states, revealing another painful piece of the past. "Tony would sit for hours outside his office door, after working so tirelessly on hundreds of drawings, and never once did he hear his father tell him he liked them; I was always the one to make excuses or reassurances. For you to make Tony feel worthy and so loved, I-"

She stops, fighting back the choked-up feeling lodged in her chest. She inhales deeply, taking a moment to compose herself. "I just want to say thank you."

T'Chaka regards her with deep understanding. "And I want to thank you. You have brought such an extraordinary child into our midst and he has truly added life into this family. After I lost my wife unexpectedly during childbirth, I had feared I would too lose my way and falter both as a father and a king. I tried my best for T'Challa and was given aid by S'Yan and my people. The first few years were not always easy, but since your arrival, there has been nothing but joy in this house. And for that, _I_ cannot thank you enough."

She is taken aback for moment, slowly realizing that their pilgrimage here did not just change only her and Tony's lives.

"Well it seems we'll be talking in circles for years, thanking each other left and right," she jokes with fake exasperation, as she would with anyone she considered a friend or... _family_. 

The King smiles cheekily back. "Ah, but we should be thankful that we have years to do just that."

 

-/-

 

Later that night, when bedtime comes calling, she goes in pursuit of her son. She looks around the palace, searching all the well-known hiding spots, but she cannot seem to find any trace of Tony nor T'Challa.

One of the guards signals her over, taking pity on her as the woman motions outside. Maria smiles gratefully as they embark down the stairs, before she follows the warrior into the jungle brush. Thanks to someone having lit the torches earlier, the path they choose does not disappear into the impending darkness. After a bit of a trek, they come upon a heartwarming sight. 

Near a tall winding tree and lying right on a soft patch grass, Tony and T’Challa are fast asleep. There’s a net hanging down from the branches all the way to the ground, covering both from any of the pesky nocturnal insects. The cutest thing about the scene is that both boys are sleeping on their sides, curled towards one another with their heads close together. Buhle, Mpilo, and Jama lay scattered around the two, slumbering soundly except for the occasional twitch of their tails. 

Footsteps signal the approach of someone coming up behind them, S’Yan stopping beside her to grin at the dear sight. 

She leans over, voice but a soft whisper. “Almost don’t have the heart to wake them.”

The man hums in agreement, watching the boys for a moment longer before bending down to lift up the hem of the net. Maria copies action, leaning into their little makeshift tent to scoop Tony gently up.

Her bambino makes a disgruntled noise at being moved, but remains asleep once she stands and has his head settled on her shoulder, body cradled in her arms. She rubs his back soothingly and places a kiss on his forehead, right over the scar. S’Yan seems to have a bit less luck, T’Challa waking up drowsily in his arms. The young prince looks around until he spots Tony in her arms and reaches across, grabbing a hold her bambino’s limp hand. His little head then falls onto his uncle’s shoulder, eyes drifting closed.

Maria, S’Yan, and even the guard all smile at the cute display before heading back towards the palace, leaving the mother panther and her cubs to rest. Maria stays close to the advisor as to not break the boys hands apart.

Though a bit tricky when confronted with the stairs, they manage to not separate the boys until they enter the palace. Only then does Maria gently pry T’Challa’s grip away, giving a small kiss on the back of his hand and letting it fall by his side.

“Gudnayithi,” she whispers, waving as she walks to their room.

“Gunayithi,” S’Yan says lowly, heading towards the royal family’s quarters.

She repeats their night routine, helping Tony dress in his pajamas, before she lays him down and tucks him; she puts his stuffed wolf right beside him, in case he searches for it in the night. Through this whole time, Tony remains out like a light.

‘Her poor bambino had a very busy day’, she muses. 

She leans over to kiss his cheek softly before getting up to leave the room. She is not quite ready to turn in yet as she has a mission to see through.

She wanders into the hallway, hunting for a specific Dora Miliaje. A few warriors meander throughout the palace, while some survey the outer perimeter. It takes a few minutes until she spots the one she's looking for, poised outside on the balcony and gazing into the night.

"Aneka?"

The woman turns to her, face blank apart from the raised eyebrow. S'Yan had disclosed to her that this woman is the combat leader, in charge of training the Dora Miliaje. Aneka never truly smiles, a trait which has caused Maria more than once to ponder what would be enough to draw one from the woman. She is always a silent but vigilant shadow when the King travels with them into the city, and though Maria has barely spoken to her, it's hard not to feel intimidated by such a powerful presence. It is exactly why she knows this woman will be the best to learn from.

She takes a moment, attempting to remember the correct words. "Ndifuna ukufunda ukuba kulwa njan." _{I want to learn how to fight.}_

And almost a year after their first encounter, the woman finally smiles at her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aneka is a real character from the Black Panther comics. You can read about her here if you so desire to. http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Aneka_(Earth-616)
> 
>    
> The line "A mother is God in the eyes of a child" is not actually an African proverb. It's a quote from the horror movie Silent Hill lol. I just really liked it and thought it fit in nicely with this story. So here's to me using a horror movie quote as a pretend African proverb for a pretend African country.
> 
> So in Wakanda, there's a few cities, with the main capital being at the city of Birnin Zana or the "Golden City". I'm imagining that the palace is close to a city, maybe Birnin Zana, but outside of it. It then takes a few minutes to hike to local villages between cities and/or the palace. Just my thoughts on it. Here is a map if you find it helpful. http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Wakanda?file=Wakanda_from_Black_Panther_Vol_6_4_0001.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> Italian:
> 
> Pazienza bambino- patience baby
> 
>  
> 
> Xhosa:
> 
> Ndifumanele...Ibhola- Find me the...ball
> 
> Ndifumanele ibhaso- Find me (the) prize
> 
> Ndifumanele...Ibhanana- Find me the...banana
> 
> Ndifumanele....Ingwe- Find me the...panther
> 
> Lala kamnandi- Sleep well/sleep tight
> 
> Umhlohli- teacher*
> 
> [*I've found many different words for teacher in Xhosa, but I decided to go with this one cause I like how it sounds]
> 
> Ingaba nikulungele ukuqala isikolo?- Are you ready to start school?
> 
> Ewe!- Yes!
> 
> Ndiyavuya ukuva oko.- I am glad to hear that.
> 
> Umama nguThixo emehlweni omntwana- A mother is God in the eyes of a child.
> 
> mntwana- child
> 
> Ndifuna ukufunda ukuba kulwa njan.- I want to learn how to fight.


	4. even unadulterated happiness costs a bit of sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all. It's been a busy week at work, so trying to write after coming home exhausted enough to collapse into my bed has been tough. But I hope this update will make up for the delay!
> 
> I've also decided to put translations in italics of long sentence/paragraphs per request. If it's just a word, then I probs won't, and instead just put in context clues so you know what I'm talking about.
> 
> Also there's another time jump in this chapter. 
> 
> And I'm sorry. This chapter is sad, because not even the most happiest of settings are free from the rare bit of grief.

 

Step...cross...lunge... _hit._

Turn...block...step... _hit._

The steady and even paced beat of dense wood clashing has become a familiar tune for Maria. With every hit she strikes or blocks, the sound echoes freely, sending a jolt of determination through her that causes her arms to swing the spear more swiftly. The vibranium-tipped weapon she practices often with has become an extension of her, a physical manifestation of the fierceness she possess inside her and will use should ever the situation call for it.

She dodges her opponent's attempt to attack, following the movement through with an uppercut swing that throws the girl off balance, enough to stagger back a few steps before she rights herself.

"Lungile Maria" Aneka comments with quirk of her lips, watching closely from the sidelines.

The praise inwardly makes her feel accomplished, as have any good remarks on her improving skills, but she is careful not too show it on her face; she has long since learned in these past years that letting small victories go to one's head can distract oneself from the task at hand and allow her movements to become sloppy.

Maria and the other warrior circle one another, each biding their time to decide which areas they are going to attack. She notices the moment before the girl lunges where she’s aiming for, allowing for her to bring up her weapon to knock the attack away and then spin to aim a hit against the warrior’s back with the blunt end of her spear, knocking the girl to the ground. Maria then points the weapon at the prone opponent as the girl rolls over, allowing the tip of the weapon to barely rest upon her throat.

It takes a moment, before the young warrior forfeits. “Ndiyanikezela." _{I surrender.}_

"Yeah mom!" her son shouts joyously at the triumph.

"Mana Maria!" T'Challa cheers her on alongside Tony, the endearing nickname he calls her often by these days makes her heart warm.

Lifting the weapon away and allowing for a smile to finally make its appearance, Maria holds a hand out to her opponent. The girl returns the smile with no ill will, accepting the hand graciously as Maria pulls her up from the ground. They both then bow to one another, as a sign of respect, to conclude the session.

She then turns around to happily take in her little audience, the two boys sitting on the floor just outside of the designated ring. They are still cheering for her as S’Yan sits comfortably on a bench beside them and nods at her in pride. It's hard to believe that her bambino is eight now and the little prince, who has become like another son to her, has just turned five. Time seems to have flown by in the blink of an eye, watching the two of them grow up alongside one another. 

Aneka approaches her, patting a firm congratulatory hand on the shoulder before leaving to oversee the other training sessions. Maria breathes deeply in well-earned exhaustion, rolling her bare feet on the hard wood floor. The beads of sweat that roll down her back have long since been accustomed to; it's one of the many things she's accepted as normality with the enormous change in their lives.

Her hair has since lost the pristine sleekness it once had, now having become wavy and sometimes untamed due to prolonged exposure to the humidity. She no longer wears make-up, unless on the occasions where she teaches or is invited to attend an important ceremony. She can see her age beginning to show on her face, especially with the fine laugh lines around her mouth. Her supple curves have all but melted away, replaced now by visible strength that exudes from both her slender toned physique and inner confidence; even her own hands' delicate nature has vanished with the formation of callouses, due to training so rigorously over the years.

And Maria has never felt happier.

She finds herself startled by a small body crashing into her, Tony hopping excitedly. As he hugs her legs, he begs, “Mom, mom! Can I train too?!”

Laughing freely, she lifts her hand to brush his hair away from his face, revealing the faded scar near his brow, a reminder of distant memories. “And why would you want to do that bambino?”

“Cause I want to be strong like you and the other fighters. I want to be able to protect our family and friends.”

Maria beams down at Tony, thinking herself lucky to be considered an inspiration by her son. Though the idea of him fighting makes her uneasy, she can concede that by allowing Tony to train with some of the other boys, he can learn to protect himself in the future, especially at times when she is not there. Nonetheless, she pretends to think about it, trying very hard not to smile at the eager anticipation on Tony’s face.

Finally, she relents. “Ok, but on the condition that we wait until you're nine.”

The slight hindrance does nothing to deter Tony's happiness as he whoops, circling around her while pretending to fight some unseen villains. T'Challa makes his way up to her, tugging gently on her pant legs.

"Mana Maria, I train too?" pleading with those big brown puppy eyes.

She sighs, tenderly patting his head. "I'm sorry little one, but you're too young. You have to wait 'till you're older."

T'Challa pouts, but the momentary cute display of sadness is soon replaced with giggling when S'Yan comes and lifts him up, tickling the little boy. "Do not be sad young prince, there is no rush to grow up. You shall train when it is time."

She smiles, leading her family away from the training grounds before heading back home. She thoroughly enjoys listening to Tony recounting how awesome her fight was as T'Challa nods along where he rests in S'Yan's arms. 

-/-

 

Maria runs a towel through her hair, feeling refreshed after a nice bath and dressing in clean clothes. Her bare feet pad along the corridor until she makes her way into another part of the palace, one that's a bit far from their sleeping quarters. This path gives her a view of the jungle scenery, a pleasant way to pass the time until she arrives to what is commonly referred to as the R&D lab.

Now she had heard the rumors swirling around of how advanced Wakanda was, but actually seeing it with her own two eyes was a whole other story. The lab was one of the few places in the palace that had central air conditioning, but that was mainly due to the fact that the scientists were working on certain biological experiments that required the temperature to be monitored. Around the wide-spanned room, various technology that she had never seen before were scattered about, all of which seemed more advanced than anything back home; hell, even the computer monitors were slimmer than the huge boxy version they had in America.

She didn't always find time to wander over this way, but when she did, it was in search of one particular brilliant mind that frequently inhabited this space when he could, especially on weekends like these. And speaking of which, there in the center of the room was her bambino, sketching up a new device with a look of pure concentration.

3 years ago, on the second day after their arrival in Wakanda, the King and Sy'an had found themselves taken aback when Tony had asked what task he would have to do, as if he thought that the length of their stay depended on an exchange of child labor. Maria knew that Howard had frequently assigned, no  _demanded_ Tony to work on more elaborate projects than any other 5 year old should have to do, but it was something Tony thrived in doing, something that would provide outlet for his brilliance. 

T'Chaka had been more than a little shocked and confused at the request. "There is no need to do anything but be a child, Tony."

It had then been her bambino's turn to look bewildered. "But I'm supposed to build things. I'm really good at it too, I promise, " his voice had started to sound a bit hysterical towards the end.

T'Chaka had placed a comforting on her son's shoulders. "And that is wonderful mntwana, but you do not have to do anything to ensure you and your mother's place here. If you want to build something for fun, you can, and I assure you that no one will try to hinder your inventing. But also realize that you are still a child and thus are allowed to be a child."

Back then, she had seen the sense of hope that had settled over her son that day, like a tiny dream that any child who had been denied a childhood for so long would have.

And just as the King had promised, Tony was finally able to be an actual child, playing with his friends and facing no pressure nor responsibilities; he was also allowed the time and resources to delve into his engineering passions. Over the years, more often than not, he would come home from school and explain in detail the different lessons they were learning on science and math, desiring to know more than the set curriculum for his current grade. T'Chaka endorsed such wishes, hiring private tutors to teach her son about different topics, ranging in a variety of difficulty. T'Challa would sometimes sit in on the lessons, and despite his age, the young prince's own brilliant mind was able to keep up with a few of the concepts. 

Now back to the present, she leans against the doorframe and looks on as Tony explains his newest idea to S'Yan and another willing inventor, both listening in rapt fascination to his idea.

"...and then we put the contraption on the motor and allow for an easier method of collecting the harvest, all of it powered by the sun. It would be able to help the farmers get their crops faster and more efficiently. They wouldn't have to work."

The inventor hums in interest, locking over the schematics of such a machine.

S'Yan, who had been silent during the presentation with a hand on his chin, decides to finally talk. "And with this invention, do civilians lose their jobs?"

Tony looks startled at the question. "What?"

"Does this invention also destroy a way of life that people have been accustomed to for hundreds of years?"

Tony shakes his head, looking horrified. "No! No malume, I- that isn't what I'm trying to build. My idea isn't evil, I-"

S'Yan hushes the scared stammering, looking gently down at Tony. "Young one, I know your idea isn't evil. In fact, your invention is a wonderful concept. But we must always consider the possibilities that come along with such an idea; _every_ action has consequences, even the good ones. For example, some may argue that your idea will take away their livelihoods, while others will disagree and support this invention that could make their jobs easier. Some may argue such a device is going to break traditional practices, destroying parts of their culture. It is important to think of not just what good this could bring, but what harm it could do as well." 

She observes as Tony take S’Yan words to heart and immediately scratch the idea, before starting to make different plans. She can hear quiet discussion about something using solar power to bring heat and electricity to the homestead and other businesses, leaving Maria to wonder how she had given life to such an amazing child.

“Ma’am?”

She turns and finds herself pleasantly surprised. “Jim?!” She heads to greet him. “What are you doing here? You’re two months early, what could possibly-“

She trails off as she takes notice that the pilot’s whole demeanor is somber. The smile slowly slips off her face, feeling a phantom vice around her throat, squeezing tighter and tighter by the pity in his eyes.

_Oh God. Howard has finally found them. It's been so long and she finally started to feel they were safe, out of danger. Suddenly that dream has come crashing down right in front of her. They're not safe anymore. They have to run or stay and fight. God, please don’t let this be true. God, please-_

She stands frozen in dread, trying to repress the tremors that want to make themselves prominent. She can only watch as Jim takes a white envelope out of his messenger bag and strides forward, holding out the letter for her to take.

“I’m so sorry,” he states, the corners of his mouth pulled down.

She regard him in a sad daze, before finally managing to take the envelope. It’s no bigger than paperback book, and weighs barely anything. She opens it up and pulls out a thin card, reading what it contains.

She finds her grasp failing, looking up at Jim with unmasked bewilderment. The sharp grief hits her so suddenly, she can feel her breathing quicken. It’s not like she hadn’t known this day would come, but... _so soon_? And god, if it hit her hard, what about-

She whips around and sees Tony chatting excitingly with a few more interested individuals, oblivious to the devastating news she’s just received. Her poor bambino has no idea of what's to come, but she knows that she must be the one to tell him. It takes her a moment, trying to steel herself before walking back to the lab.

“Tony?” she calls, voice sounding weak even to her own ears.

Her bambino gazes up at her, a smile still lighting up his face. It breaks her heart to know that she’s about to break his.

 

-/-

Maria sits on ornate wood carved chair in silence, watching the entrance that leads outside to the grand staircase. She can see Tony sitting on the top step, looking out into the distance as the sun begins to set. He's been there for over an hour, having long abandoned his work in the lab and since sequestered himself in isolation after she told him the devastating news. Mpilo and Jama, who have grown a bit bigger over the years, have taken their appointed places right beside him, not once leaving his side. It hurts like a stabbing ache in her chest to want so badly to go scoop him up and comfort him, tell him it's gonna be alright, but know that he wants to be left alone, more so that she won't have to bear witness to his moments lost in grief.

She looks down at the memoriam card still in her possession, a feeling of helplessness washing over her.

 

_In Loving Memory of_

_Ana Rachel Jarvis_

_January 15,_ _1911- October 26, 1982_

_Missed explicably and internally_

 

The picture of the dear woman, who had come to mean so much to them, is from when she was young, a true stunning beauty of her time. Underneath the portrait is a short description of her life and her remaining family, which causes Maria to feel choked up again at the sight of both her and Tony's names on there; no doubt that had caused quite a stir but the woman probably wouldn't have had it any other way.

The sound of sturdy shoes approach as a hand grasps her shoulder gently, giving it a squeeze as Maria breathes deeply against the urge to sob. The hand slowly lets go as T'Chaka heads to go outside, no doubt to try and comfort Tony. He must have been informed as soon as he had returned from business in the city. Small footsteps near where she sits, T'Challa coming to stand in front of her. He raises his hands towards her as she quickly lifts him up, hugging him close to rest against her chest. 

"Kutheni uTony elusizi?" he asks. _{Why is Tony sad?}_

She sighs sadly. "Siye salahlekelwa ngumntu obaluleke kakhulu kuthi."  _{We lost someone very important to us.}_

"Oh," T'Challa says softly. "Jarvis?"

She shakes her head. "No, Ana."

T'Challa is silent for a moment before asking another question. "Ukuba silahlekile, njani ukunceda ngengcebiso zakhe?"  _{If she is lost, can we help find her?}_

Oh, this sweet child. "As much as I wish that was possible, sadly we can't. She's gone from this earth."

"To Heaven?"

She nods, holding him closer as his little hands rest on her arms. "Yeah, she's gone to heaven, just like your mana."

"My mama?" he asks, surprised.

"Yes T'Challa. And you know what? Now both of them can watch over us from Heaven." 

The young prince ponders over her words before gradually sagging against her chest, the concept of death new and weighing heavily on him. "Ana always made good cookies."

Maria chuckles at the unexpected statement, the sound wet but so desperately needed during these grievous times. "Yeah, she did."

 

-/-

 

T'Chaka slowly nears the young boy, the sound of his footsteps causes Tony to hastily wipe at his face. The King sighs heavy-hearted, before taking a seat beside him.

"It is ok to cry mntwana. There is nothing to be ashamed of."

Tony keeps his face turned away, the sound of sniffling still present. Jama whines at him, nudging his head against his leg. Tony's voice is a bit shaky when he finally speaks. "I know, mom always told me that its ok, but dad used to say _'Stark men don't cry.'_ He used to think it made you weak to show emotions."

T'Chaka has to pause for a moment, tempering down the deep-seated anger that still lingers towards the man who has hurt his own wonderful child with such words. Once he reigns in control, he focuses back on Tony solely. "Mntwana, do you think me weak when I tell you that I cried openly after T'Challa's mother died?"

A red, blotchy face turns towards him with damp eyes. "No."

"Do you think me weak if I were to cry now if I lost someone else important to me, as you have?"

Tony is silent for a moment before he shakes his head. "No."

"Would you tell T'Challa that men don't cry if he were to burst into tears after injuring himself?"

"No, of course not," his voice growing hoarse as he brings his hand up to wipe his nose.

T'Chaka then places a hand on his knee. "Then know that crying does not make us weak. Crying shows that we care or that we are hurt, both feelings that deserve to be known. Do you know what makes us weak?"

Tony's eyes are wide as he shakes his head.

"We are weak if we refuse to show our emotions. We are truly weak when we shame others who dare to cry. You have lost someone very dear to you and you should not feel ashamed to show that you cared about them. It is more than ok to cry."

At that, Tony's face crumble as tears slips from his eyes and run down his face. He leans against the King, who wraps an arm securely around the young boy. T'Chaka holds him close, listening to the sobs muffled into his suit jacket, tears bleeding into the fabric. He rubs a hand up and down the child's arm, looking up into the sky as the sun descends. 

He says a silent prayer. ' _My sweet beloved, please take care of Ana.'_

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm sorry for those who wanted a happy reunion with Ana and Tony. It's just a really complicated situation because for one Howard is still alive, and because of that, there's aways going to be a sort of monitoring of his employees. It would have put the secret whereabouts of Maria and Tony at risk if I had a physically meeting between the three. They did keep up as I mentioned and will mention with communication via letters ever few months over the past years, but I still am sorry I couldn't satisfy that need of meeting again. 
> 
> But! I do have something planned more for Jarvis and Tony in future chapter(s) :)!
> 
> Also, I imagine Ana and Jarvis are really getting up there in age by this time, so this is just a part of life, sadly. I did tag canonical character death, if anyone feels super upset about this. Again sorry my friends :(
> 
> (Also I chose the middle name Rachel for Ana because in the Agent Carter wiki page, it says Jarvis met a girl of Jewish descent who later became his wife. Thus, I decided to simply go with Rachel after going through a page of Hebrew names for girls.)
> 
> When I write that Maria was training against a young girl, I mean she's in her late teens almost 20s (like 18/19), when some of the girls want to start training to join the Dora Milaje. So don't worry, she's not fighting some 10 year old.
> 
>  
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Lungile- Good
> 
> Ndiyanikezela- I surrender.
> 
> mana - mother
> 
> malume- uncle
> 
> mntwana- child
> 
> Kutheni uTony elusizi?- Why is Tony sad?
> 
> Siye salahlekelwa ngumntu obaluleke kakhulu kuthi .- We lost someone very important to us.


	5. through the eyes of an ever-curious child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge apologies for the long delay on this chapter! But lucky you all, you get to have a chapter full of Baby T'Challa's POV! :D 
> 
> I want to say that the response to this story has me absolutely freakin' floored! Like wow! I am so happy to see people really digging this work, one that I had no clue would get to this point. AND WE AREN'T EVEN CLOSE TO BEING FINISHED haha! 
> 
> So anyways I just wanted to say again thank you so much for everyone giving my story a chance (and being patient when the updates take a while). All the comments and kudos and hits are so encouraging to see! 
> 
> *many warm hugs given to all of you* (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> PSA: Huge shout out to Finloslore who did all the translations for me in this chapter and helped me redo the ones for previous chapters! This individual is a godsend and thanks to them, you all get to have correct Xhosa translations :) THIS PERSON IS AMAZING! 
> 
> (Note: Tata in Xhosa means father, but I really liked the different term 'baba' they used in the movie, so I switched it to baba.)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter! :)
> 
> NOTE: (3/11/18)  
> I set up a Ko-fi account cause it's hard to balance writing when I have to dedicate most of my time grad school, work, and do my non-paid practicum. Any and all support is much appreciated thank you. [ Ko-fi account!](https://ko-fi.com/meadowwanderer) ALSO YOU CAN FIND UPDATES ON THIS WORK AND OTHERS ON THIS PAGE!

The first time T'Challa sees Tony, he thinks he's a spirit sent by the panther goddess Bast; it must be true for the boy's skin is so white, unlike anyone else in Wakanda. Nonetheless T'Challa is so happy because he thinks the goddess finally heard his prayers to have someone to play with during the times when his father and uncle are so busy with their duties. And so he giggles, giddy with excitement at the idea of many wondrous adventures the two of them will go on.

The boy seems surprised by him in turn, even when T'Challa waves hello. After a few minutes of bashful shyness, he decides to be brave and come out from behind the stone pillar. He makes his way over to the boy, sitting right down next to him on the step. He waits to hear what adventure the boy thinks they should go on first, but the only response he gets is a soft "hi" as the boy demurely holds a stuffed wolf close to his chest.

T'Challa says hi back before they lapse into silence. He realizes up close that the boy has coverings on his hands, arm, and forehead. Curious, he leans forward and pokes at the bandaged, surprised when that the boy is real to the touch, and that he brings his hand to up to cover the bandage, hissing out an "ouch". 

It's an unfamiliar expression, which has T'Challa trying to mimic the movement, repeating the word slowly " _Ou-ouch_." He immediately feels bad though, because going by the boy's facial expression, he's in pain. So T'Challa apologizes, because the last things he ever wants to do is hurt his new friend.

The apology does not erase the sadness on the boy's face, but Buhle's sudden appearance does as she sweeps up his new friend with her mouth, carrying him by the scruff of his shirt back into the palace. T'Challa claps excitedly during the whole exchange, for he is certain Buhle will surely make his new friend happy.

As he gets up to go join them, he realizes that his friend dropped his stuffed animal. He quickly picks it up and scurries inside, delighted to see his new friend talking to his father with his uncle, the Dora Milaje, and two visitors in the background. He hands the wolf to the boy, who takes it gratefully and then T'Challa jumps into his baba's awaiting arms. He listens as his father and the boy speak to each other, most of the words unfamiliar to his little ears. Not able to understand, he takes time to look around and spots another person, a woman with skin as fair as snow and hair like a pale golden tapestry that hangs around her beautiful face.

He turns back to the conversation when he hears his father introducing T'Challa and then himself. The boy then sticks out his hand with a determined look and says his name is "Ta'Tony." The woman gets flustered immediately and says something to his father, who laughs as he bends down to shake the boys hand. 

"It is alright, more than alright. It is nice to meet you too,  _Tony,_ " his Father gently corrects. "You will learn many things about our culture..."

 _T_ _ony._ The boy who has brown hair that curls at the ends and warm honey brown eyes that watch his father intently. _Tony_ , for that is the name of his new friend. T'Challa says the name five times over in his head, liking way it lingers in his mind. 

 _Tony and T'Challa. T'Challa and Tony._ He thinks that their names sound nice together.

He focuses back to the conversation as Tony asks a question that causes laughter, but the only thing T'Challa catches is his name being mentioned and the word 'pretty', causing him to beam at his new friend; Tony thinks he is pretty and that makes his tummy feel warm and tingly. 

"Oh young one, your mind is truly a wonder," his father says with the same fond tone he uses with T'Challa. "Sadly, you will not look like us on the outside, but in time, I'm sure your heart will beat the same as the hearts of the people of Wakanda."

He doesn't know some of the words, but he picked up a few things like 'heart', 'people', and 'Wakanda'. Perhaps his friend has lost a part of his heart and has come to find it with the people in Wakanda; it is a quest that T'Challa would be most willing to help him in.

"Will you promise to protect my mama?" Tony asks his baba, causing the woman behind them to choke out a sad sound. She must be his mama that Tony is referring to and he caught the word 'protect'. Apparently their adventure shall be very grand for not only will he have to help Tony find a piece of his heart, but he must also help protect his new friend's mother.

His baba's voice is soft when he replies. "Yes, I will. But I will also promise to protect you too, Tony."

"Me?" he asks surprised, eyes wide.

"Yes Tony. You are worth such a promise."

His new friend seems to consider it before he gives his answer. "Okay, we can stay here."

"Then welcome to your new home, mntwana _._ " 

Later that very night, as his father tucks him into bed, T'Challa listens to his words. "UTony noMaria bazahlala nathi ukusukela ngoku ukuya phambili" _{_ _Tony and Maria are going to stay with us from now on.}_

T'Challa is happy to hear such news, but curious as to why these people have come. "Kutheni baba?" _{Why father?}_

"Ngoba baye bahlukumezeka ekhayeni labo yilento beze apha bezonyangeka kwezontlungu," his father leans forward and kisses his brow. "Yilento kufuneka sibenze bazive besekhaya."  _{Because they have been hurt and have come here to heal from such pain./ That is why we must make them feel at home.}_

Now T'Challa feels really bad about causing his new friend pain when he is already hurting so deeply. A swell of protectiveness rises in him, wanting to ensure that neither Tony nor his mama will ever be hurt again. "Ingaba baza kufumana ukuhlala apha ngonaphakade?"  _{Will they get to stay here forever?}_

His baba smiles, eyes looking at him with fatherly love. "Ewe, Ukuba bayafuna."  _{Yes, if they want to.}_

Following the advice of his father, the next morning he scrambles over to Tony after breakfast and practically drags him outside to the amusement of the adults. He hurriedly takes Tony into the brush, eager to show him his favorite spot and make him feel welcomed here. The trek is long and it takes time on his little legs, but when they arrive at the twisted tree who's branches reach high into the sky, it's worth it to witness a blinding smile appear on his new friends face, devoid of any sadness or pain.

It's at that moment, he desperately hopes in his little heart that they stay here forever. 

 

-/-

 

Over the course of the following year, T'Challa gains many things because of Tony.

Because he was so young (and a prince), T'Challa hadn't a chance yet to meet other children his own age. Tony is the one who changes that as his new friend brings him along to explore the nearby villages with his mother, running into children who are playing their games with such glee that T'Challa can feel himself grow envious. The envy though does not last long for the children wave them over to join in their fun, both fascinated and excited to see someone as unique as Tony. Tony does not leave T'Challa behind, instead rubbing the back of his hand against T'Challa's until he grabs ahold of of the awaiting hand tightly. Together they run over to the awaiting children. Though Tony can't speak their language and T'Challa is one of the youngest there, their fun is not hindered in the slightest. He gains many news friends that day.

He comes to gain an appreciation for his new friend. Tony is brilliant as T'Challa comes to realize, even though he is a child himself. It's amazing to see how fast Tony can pick up their native language and appear absolutely delighted when he learns a new word. It makes T'Challa want to try just as hard to learn English, because he wants to be able to speak to his best friend easily and without barriers.

He gains a desire for knowledge and enthusiasm to create. Sometimes he will join the inventing sprees Tony will go on in the lab, trying hard to keep up with what him and the adults say. He isn't yet allowed to touch the tools Tony is (even under supervision), but he can draw up plans and ideas galore and always feel his father and uncle's approval when he presents the sketches to them.

He gains the feeling of what a whole family feels like. He was always grateful to have a loving and caring father, blessed to have a supportive person in his uncle S'Yan, but he could sometimes feel their grief in rare moments. He never knew his mother, but he thinks of her often as his father would tell him that she was watching over them from the green veld, able to run forever with the sun light warming her skin. He never knew the soft touch of a mother until Tony and his mama came to them. Maria became a stable presence in their house, a motherly touch that is always so kind and caring to him. 

The most difficult thing he gains is an understanding that his age can sometimes hinder his joy. The hardest part about being three is having to watch Tony go to school without him, leaving T'Challa alone with only Mpilo, Jama, and Buhle to entertain himself with. Through the weekdays, he will finish his private language lesson and then spend the rest of the morning rushing to the big clock on his father's desk to see if it is time to go get Tony, only to be disappointed that barely minutes have passed since he last checked.

Before Tony came, he had enjoyed how long the day could stretch out, glad to get to play carelessly until the night decided to begin it's duty.

Now though? The day is too long for his liking.

So he sits by the palace entrance, and he waits and waits and waits, until finally he hears Maria moving from her spot to go get Tony. He quickly scurries over to her, grabbing her hand, "I come with." 

She smiles at him, not denying his request as they set off together with some of his father's warriors in tow. Maria is patient as he describes in full detail every part of his day, for although he was waiting endlessly to see his friend again, he had a very busy day; he wrestled with the panthers, drew some pictures, counted all the way to 20 ten times, ate lunch, saw some birds, played with his toys, and picked some flowers as a gift for Tony. So all in all, it was a  _very, very_ busy day.

When they reach the school, he sprints off to the gates, yearning to join in on the fun at the sight of all the children running and laughing together.

"Tony! Tony!" he calls, excited when he spots his best friend.

Tony turns at the sound of his name and immediately smiles, running over to him along with some of their friends from the village. They all speak to each other quickly, talking animatedly back and forth, because not even a well-built gate can separate the bonds they've formed together. The hug he receives as Tony leaves the school makes something ease in his chest.

His best friend has not forgotten him and everything is ok.

When they leave, Tony bumps the back of his hand again, fingers wiggling in between his, which T'Challa then grasps the awaiting hand firmly. He listens with rapt attention during their journey as Tony tells him about his day, making the thought of school sound exciting. He wishes desperately he was already old enough to be with Tony.

That night, after being allowed to go play, he lays beside Tony in their spot under the winding tree. A net hangs down the branches over them, courtesy of one of the Dora Milaje. There they whisper secrets and silly things that only they will know, snuggled together with the panthers falling asleep near them.

"Tony?" he asks.

Tony looks at him. "Mmm?"

He tries to think of the right words. "Baba like your picture. Why important?"

Tony face becomes serious, eyes painfully sad. "My dad never liked my pictures. He never cared about them. To have someone like your baba really like my pictures..." he trails off, not able to finish.

T'Challa has heard a few things about where Tony and Maria have come from, and he does not like how they make Tony sad and pain flair up in Maria's eyes. The scar near his best friend's eyebrow sometimes makes T'Challa so angry at the person who gave it to him.

He would...he would...he would call that person a really mean name and make them cry.

But Tony is the one who needs his attention, so he leans over and kisses the the scar, watching Tony look back at him in shock. A smile then grows on Tony's face as he leans over and kisses T'Challa's forehead, sending them both into a giggling fit.

Soon sleep takes them, the night wishing the boys tucked together sweet dreams.

 

-/- 

 

Mana Maria is a fierce fighter, who moves with quick and precise steps, but never once loses her gracefulness. She has taught him many things, but one of the most precious lessons was the uninhibited love of a mother. Her kindness and encouragement has been treasure he has come to cherish over the years, and he can only think it is fitting to call her Mana Maria.

And though it's disappointing to be told by her that T'Challa can't train until he is much older, it does not deter his spirit. He will one day be strong like her and the Dora Milaje. He will protect everyone he loves and cares about.

In the afternoon, he rushes back hurriedly from an English lesson, only to find that Tony is absent from his usual spot in the lab and everyone else present is somber. S'Yan is talking to his father, both quiet while their eyes speak of sadness. They guide him back into the palace, where he can see just outside on the steps, Tony sits with his head resting against his knees. His father pats T'Challa gently on the head before taking off to go talk to Tony.

He quietly walks over to sad-looking Maria on the couch, silently asking to be held in her lap. She obliges his wish, holding him close to her with a tight embrace. He has many questions and tries to find where to begin.

"Kutheni uTony elusizi?" he asks. _{Why is Tony sad?}_

He hears her sigh. "Siye salahlekelwa ngumntu obaluleke kakhulu kuthi."  _{We lost someone very important to us.}_

"Oh," T'Challa is surprised and disheartened. The letters Maria and Tony receive frequently pop into his mind. "Jarvis?"

He feels Maria shake her head. "No, Ana."

T'Challa falls silent for a moment. Losing someone is scary, but surely it is something that can be easily fixed. That's what happens when Tony and T'Challa forget to come back for dinner during their adventures in the jungle; someone comes and finds them, scared they were lost. "Ukuba ulahlekile, singanincedisa ukumfumana?"  _{If she is lost, can we help find her?}_

"As much as I wish that was possible, sadly we can't. She's gone from this earth."

"To Heaven?" he asks, because Maria had once explained about the differences between Wakandan beliefs and her own. Heaven is a place that souls go to in the sky to be happy again.

He feels her arms pull him closer as his brings his hands rest on them. "Yeah, she's gone to heaven, just like your mana."

"My mama?" he asks, surprised. His mama is in Heaven? Then she must be very happy.

"Yes T'Challa. And you know what? Now both of them can watch over us from Heaven." 

Death is a difficult concept. It is when you lose someone you love but they go on to be happy again. He watches from his spot as his father pulls Tony into his chest, hugging the shaking boy close. Losing Ana is causing both Mana Maria and Tony so much pain. She was always so nice in the letters and from the stories Tony told him. But luckily, she will not be alone in Heaven for his mama will watch over her.

"Ana always made good cookies," he states, remembering her special chocolate chip cookies she sent.

He hears Mana Maria chuckle wetly. "Yeah, she did."

When a long time has passed and he slips away from Maria, he goes to look for Tony. An hour ago his best friend had disappeared from the step, but T'Challa knows where he has gone to. It is like his soul knows where to find it's other half.

He wanders down the long staircase and through the brush, quickly seeking 'their place' in the jungle. He comes upon the familiar twisted tree and finds Tony sitting on the lowest branch, watching the sun set beyond the tree line. He climbs up the tree and joins Tony on the branch, sitting as close to his friend as possible. He bumps the back of his hand against Tony's limp one, fingers poking clumsily against his friend's until Tony's hand turns in his grasp, gripping his tightly. Tony continues to stare forward, grieving eyes glued ahead.

T'Challa leans in close, holding his hand tight. "Tony, umama wam uzomnakekela kakuhle uAna." _{Tony, my mama is going to take good care of Ana.}_

A startled sob escapes his best friend's throat as the shoulders leaning against his begins to shake. Tony turns and buries his face in T'Challa's shoulder, his hand gripping his own tighter, desperately seeking comfort. T'Challa leans his head against Tony's, rubbing his thumb over the other boy's knuckles as quiet tears run down his shoulder. As he looks up to the sky, he makes a solemn promise. 

_And I will take good care of him, Ana. I promise._

-/-

 

He is almost six years old when his father tells him he is to be a big brother. He's very confused at first, because how will he have a sibling when he has no mother and his father has no wife? But then his uncle explains to him that his father is adopting a child, a baby girl related to them by blood through distant cousins who are too old to properly care for her. At learning this news, T'Challa is not quite sure how to feel. New babies tend to bring much joy to people, and he is afraid he will be forgotten in all the excitement. He is especially frightened when he imagines Tony forgetting him because of this new family member.

He wonders if it is too late to return this soon-to-be sibling of his.

But a few weeks later, when his father places a bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket in his arms, he is truly mesmerized by his little sister. She has round cheeks and big brown eyes that stare up at him in wonder. Her small head is almost completely covered in dark wisps of hair. He feels Tony wrap an arm around him, leaning in close to peak at her as the adults in the room watch the three of them.

"She's beautiful," Tony says softly, as if afraid to startle her.

T'Challa feels his throat tighten at the sight of her, and cannot do anything other than hum in agreement. She is beautiful indeed. He is surprised when Tony leans over her, kissing her gently on the forehead. He then looks straight at T'Challa with his warm honey eyes, smiling at him.

"Uzoba ngoyena bhuti," his tone so certain. _{You're going to be the best big brother.}_

T'Challa bobs his head quickly, because yes, he wants to be the best big brother; he will do anything to make his sister happy and to make Tony proud. So he leans over to kiss the same spot on her forehead as she blows a spit bubble. 

"Molo sista," he says with a grin.  _{Hello sister.}_

 

-/-

 

He is eight years old when he realizes that he is in love with Tony.

Or maybe he's been in love for many years, innocent childish love, but has now only come to acknowledge how the feeling has started to take deeper roots.

The realization happens when they are walking outside towards the field where Mana Maria sometimes works. Shuri is 2 1/2, a ball of energy that loves to tag along with them whenever they go on adventures. She is giggling freely and circling around them as Tony watches her fondly. But along the way, she missteps and ends up tripping on the ground, landing on her front. He and Tony immediately rush to her side as she starts to weep, the two Dora Milaje nearby approaching to offer aid. They all help her into a sitting position, getting a good look at the damage. 

Her left knee is skinned, drops of blood walloping up onto the surface as trails of tears make their way down her face. 

"Oh Shuri," he says, feeling much sympathy at the sight of her pain.

But then T'Challa falls silent and stares when Tony takes the end of his shirt, ripping the hem off before wrapping it around her knee until the entire wound is covered. Shuri sniffs as he works, T'Challa's hand rubbing her back comfortingly.

"Sukungxunguphala mntana omncinci, kuzolunga," Tony says as he ties off the wrapping, disregarding his now torn clothing.  _{Don't worry little one, it is all right.}_

Shuri's crying has slowed down immensely as she watches his nimble fingers work. Tony then reaches his hands up to her face, wiping away her tears with his thumbs as he smiles kindly at her. "Uyintombanaza enesibindi **.** "  _{You are a very brave girl.}_

T'Challa feels his chest warm at the scene of Tony caring so gently for his little sister.

T'Challa helps her stands, kissing her forehead before turning and bending his knees, offering his back to her. He hears the punctuated giggle as she clambers onto his back with Tony's help, small arms wrapping around his neck and tears long forgotten. Her head rests against his shoulder with his arms holding under her legs as they begin back on their trek. He turns his head when a hand clasps his free shoulder, his best friend smiling at him in pride.

In that moment, he swears his heart will always belong to Tony.

 -/-

 

The age of twelve brings many things into fruition for T'Challa, most notably his desire.

It's been three years since he started to train alongside his friends, and the steady growing power in his limbs has started to become noticeable. He is still young, in both spirit and stature, but with rigorous discipline he can grow into a fine warrior.

It's when they are on the sidelines during a match that he feels his cheeks begin to heat. He watches Tony, bare chested and sweaty as he fights against Daluxolo. The strength in his best friend's arms is somewhat distracting, but it is when Tony circles his opponent, putting his back on show for them, that T'Challa is truly mesmerized. The ripple in his spine and the striking movements that strain his muscles make T'Challa's mouth go dry.

The weather is so very hot today, parching him dreadfully.

When Tony knocks his opponent out of the rings, T'Challa and their friends cheer loudly. However, his own applause stops short when Tony turns towards his crowd, chest heaving with heavy panting and a smile on his face, hair plastered to his forehead. T'Challa looks down at his lap to will away his blush, grateful that his dark skin does not reveal such telling things so easily. 

Someone nudges against his shoulder, shaking him out of his stupor. "C'mon T'Challa. It is your turn," Sabelo reminds him with a grin.

He takes a deep breath and nods, standing with his wooden weapon as he makes his way into the ring. Tony passes by, clapping a hand on his shoulder as a sign of good luck before joining the other boys on the sideline.

Hlmoela, a boy the same age as him, steps into the ring. "Are you ready to lose, little Prince?"

He grins at the nickname they like to tease him with, all in good fun. He swings his weapon to position, eyes narrowing playfully. "You wish."

As they descend into the fight, T'Challa tries very hard not to concentrate on the feeling of Tony's eyes, which never once leave him.

 

-/-

 

It is nearing the end of the school year, and at the age of 14, T'Challa can feel onsetting panic take ahold of him. 

Tony will be starting University soon, and he has still not decided if he will go abroad or attend the Wakanda University; he of course has been accepted to many but Tony remains torn between exploring the outside world or remaining close enough with his family. Both his father, uncle, and Mana Maria have expressed their support in whatever Tony's decision will be, especially when he decided years back not to attend early, but T'Challa knows his sister shares his same inward thoughts: they do not want him to leave them. 

"Hey Tony, did you see the way that Sisipho was looking at you? She could not keep her eyes away from you at lunch," Phumelele teases Tony, wrapping an arm around his neck and messing up his hair.

The other boys all join in, hooting and hollering as his best friend playfully pushes them away. Though entertaining to watch his friends' shenanigans, he feels his smile become strained as he remains silent during the jesting.  

Soon they part ways from the others, playfully smacking each other and waving goodbye. Tony and him walk side by side towards the palace, falling into a companionable silence that sets them at ease.

Or at least, he thought it did. Tony bumps his arm against his, making T'Challa look up from the ground he was so fascinated by. "What's wrong?"

The most difficult thing about growing up with his best friend is they cannot hide many things from each other. Though that's not to say he doesn't try. "Nothing, just a lot on my mind." 

Tony levels him with an unimpressed look as he hums, clearly not buying it.

T'Challa sighs, knowing Tony won't let his concern go unanswered. The truth is that even if Tony remains in Wakanda for his studies, T'Challa worries that he will be forgotten, left behind as his best friend is swept up in the sea of University life with classes, friends, and girls...or even guys.

His silent journey is cut short as Tony moves to stand in front of him, halting him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "T'Challa..." those big honey brown eyes looking at him pleadingly.

His eyes drop to the side as he grips the straps of his backpack tightly. "Andifuni undilibale," he murmurs lowly.  _{I don't want you to forget me.}_

He thinks Tony maybe won't understand what he means, too many layers of hidden emotions, but his best friend surprises him like always.

He hears the thick dark brown leather cuff that Tony earned during his right of passage being taken off. He watches as his best friend pulls out a small tool knife from his backpack to cut into the bracelet. He stares as the blade is dragged all the way around twice until finally a thin long strand of leather is freed. Putting the knife away, Tony then takes his wrist and wraps the leather around it, tying it off with a knot. Tony then snaps his own cuff back on, this time much thinner than it first was.

T'Challa is still staring in awe at his new bracelet as he feels an arm wrap around his shoulders, a head leaning close to his.

"Andinokwazi ukulibala", Tony whispers in his ear, the words soft yet firm in tone. _{I could never forget you.}_  

Tony's free hand bumps the back of his in the familiar gesture, as T'Challa turns his palm open to grip the hand tightly. He looks up to meet the steady gaze directed at him, feeling reassured by the truth he finds in those eyes and the feeling of the bracelet around his wrist.

Later that night, when T'Challa has finished sparing with Tony and their other friends, he finds S'Yan waiting for him. His uncle motions outside, requesting a few moments of privacy to discuss important matters.

"Iyeza lemini," is what his uncle greets him with.  _{The day draws nearer.}_

T'Challa inhales but nods. Every Wakanda boy has to go through this, a rite of passage to becoming a man. Even Tony, born outside of Wakanda, had partaken in the practice almost three years ago, though no matter how hard T'Challa tried to extract all the details, Tony never divulged more than a few things of what happened. The overarching uncertainty that the task poses is a challenge each boy has to face alone.

"Ndiyayazi malume," he says, straightening his shoulders.  _{I know uncle.}_

"Unalo uvalo?" {Are you nervous?}

His uncle is one of the few that can see past his bravado, having been present when he was only a small curious child. T'Challa sees no point in lying, so he answers honestly, "Yes."

His uncle lays a hand on his shoulder, holding resolutely as if to give him strength through the bond. "NoTony wayenjalo naye ngokuya wayengangawe. Udinga ukusebenzisa isibindi nothando olufundiswe lusapho nezihlobo zakho. Ndiyayazi uzophumelela."  _{Tony was too at your age. But you need only to use the courage and love that your family and friends have instilled in you. I know you will make it through.}_

His uncle's words ignite a determined spirit inside him as the sounds of the older boys sparing reaches his ears. Some have already made it through, and others like him await their time to prove themselves. He is a prince who will one day have to lead all people, both young and old alike; such power and respect cannot be won without first toiling through the difficulties and earning it.

His uncle claps him on the shoulder before stepping away, hands slipping behind his back. S'Yan lifts his chin and then looks again at him, eyebrow raised as he speaks again. "Sekusezoba lixesha lokuqala uhambo lwakho. Sowulilungele?"  _{It is almost time begin your journey. Are you ready?}_

T'Challa turns and looks towards the training ring, watching as Tony stands on the sideline, cheering on their friends sparring. Such love he desires is not won without proving his worth and fairly earning it. He must become a man before he could ever hope to be worthy of such a soul by his side, to have the leather string that is tied around his wrist take a new home around his finger.

"Ewe malime," his heart beating firmly against his ribs when he witnesses Tony's smile. "Sendikulungele."  _{Yes uncle. I am ready.}_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shuri is originally born by a woman who T'Chaka married, after T'Challa's mother passed. I didn't really want to add another character that would upset the balance I've created, and add someone I felt no motivation to write about, so here she is adopted by blood relation (her parents are really old so they can't take care of her). That way we get Shuri in this story, but she is still blood related to T'Chaka and T'Challa.
> 
> The rite of passage that I adapted from the comics took place when T'Challa was a teenager.  
> "T'Challa as a teen was sent on the Wakandan rite of passage in which he was sent off to roam the land." Although mine in this story does NOT follow how his went in the comics (because the leather cuff was my own idea and you'll eventually see why later).
> 
> Translations:
> 
> UTony noMaria bazahlala nathi ukusukela ngoku ukuya phambili.- Tony and Maria are going to stay with us from now on.
> 
> **Kutheni baba?- Why father?***  
> (** father in Xhosa is supposed to be tata, but I changed it due to loving the term 'baba' that T'Challa uses in CACW. Plus I think they adapted the Xhosa language and then made few adjustments to become the 'Wakanda' langauge so I did as well.***)
> 
> Ngoba baye bahlukumezeka ekhayeni labo yilento beze apha bezonyangeka kwezontlungup.- Because they have been hurt and have come here to heal from such pain.
> 
> Yilento kufuneka sibenze bazive besekhaya.- That is why we must make them feel at home.
> 
> Ingaba baza kufumana ukuhlala apha ngonaphakade?- Will they get to stay here forever?
> 
> Ewe, Ukuba bayafuna.- Yes, if they want to.
> 
> Kutheni uTony elusizi?- Why is Tony sad?
> 
> Siye salahlekelwa ngumntu obaluleke kakhulu kuthi.- We lost someone very important to us.
> 
> Ukuba ulahlekile, singanincedisa ukumfumana?- If she is lost, can we help find her?
> 
> Tony, umama wam uzomnakekela kakuhle uAna.- My mama is going to take good care of Ana.
> 
> Uzoba ngoyena bhuti,- You're going to be the best big brother.
> 
> Molo sista.- Hello sister
> 
> Sukungxunguphala mntana omncinci, kuzolunga.- Don't worry little one, it is all right.
> 
> Uyintombanaza enesibindi- You are a very brave girl.
> 
> Andifuni undilibale- I don't want you to forget me.
> 
> Andinokwazi ukulibala- I could never forget you.
> 
> Iyeza lemini- The day draws nearer.
> 
> Ndiyayazi malume.- I know uncle.
> 
> Unalo uvalo?- Are you nervous?
> 
> NoTony wayenjalo naye ngokuya wayengangawe. Udinga ukusebenzisa isibindi nothando olufundiswe lusapho nezihlobo zakho. Ndiyayazi uzophumelela- Tony was too at your age. But you need only to use the courage and love that your family and friends have instilled in you. I know you will make it through.
> 
> Sekusezoba lixesha lokuqala uhambo lwakho. Sowulilungele?- It is almost time to begin your journey. Are you ready?
> 
> Ewe malime. Sendikulungele- Yes uncle. I am ready.


End file.
